


Mourning Star

by Asgardian_Centaur



Series: We Are Made Such by Love (Logyn MCU) [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-17
Updated: 2015-08-07
Packaged: 2018-01-01 21:43:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 41,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1048917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asgardian_Centaur/pseuds/Asgardian_Centaur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to She Searches for You; takes place during the events of Thor: The Dark World.</p><p>Loki was imprisoned, and Sigyn found herself in a gilded cage for her loyalty. With Asgard facing a new threat, they must come to terms with everything that's happened, and find a way to secure their freedom</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So...this is the sequel to She Searches for You. This first chapter isn't very spoilery, but since this story will cover all of Thor: The Dark World eventually there will be spoilers.

Chapter One

Thor stood in front of the ornately carved door to Sigyn’s chambers for what seemed like an eternity, unsure of his decision to come here or his words. The two guards who were always by her door looked to him expectantly, waiting for his order. Thor had faced  many battles since returning from Midgard, but this was as nerve wracking as any battle.

“My lord?” One of them asked, breaking his reverie.

“Let me in.”

The doors swung open and Thor stepped inside the dimly let chambers. Sigyn’s back was to him as she sat in front of her vanity, carefully running her brush through her hair. Again, his voice failed him. What could he say to here after everything that had happened?

Sigyn put the brush down, but she didn’t look at him. “Hello, brother.”

“Sister.”

“It’s been a long time. To what do I owe this visit?”

His guilt hit him like a blow to the stomach. He should have come here sooner. Instead he’d kept his distance ever since she stood before his father and the court of Asgard and held firm to her dedication to Loki. He had told himself it was to give her space, and that the various battles across the realms had needed his attention, but really it was because he hadn’t known _what_ to say to her. It was cowardice on his part, and he could not ignore her further.

“I am sorry for not coming to see you sooner.”

“It couldn’t be helped. You’ve been busy.” She still hadn’t turned to face him, but he could tell that she was watching him through the mirror. “The Nine Realms are in turmoil and need their prince.”

“Regardless, I should have made time to see you.” Thor didn’t remember Sigyn being this difficult to read. Once, her smiles had been as open as her heart. Now she had built walls around herself that could not be scaled or vaulted over unless she allowed it. She was survival personified, wary and unbending. “It’s good to see you at court again.”

Her reemergence at court had taken most by surprise. They had expected her to remain in her room out of shame, not show herself in Loki’s colors. She also had a habit of blending into crowds and shadows when it suited her, which only unsettled people further. Still, Thor was glad that she wasn’t spending all of her time locked away in her rooms or the archives.

Sigyn turned and faced him this time. “You mean that?”

She studied him carefully, as though calculating his response. Thor hated that this is what she had become. It was too much like his brother, and he wanted to blame Loki for corrupting her. He had to remind himself that Sigyn had gone with him willingly, that everything she did was her choice. She had chosen this path, but that didn’t mean he liked where it had lead her. “Yes.”

Then, just as he had begun to give up, she smiled. It was such a small thing, but her face softened enough to know it was genuine. “I fear the rest of Asgard does not share your sentiment.”

“You might be surprised.” She shrugged and turned to face him. Now, with her full attention, Thor realized he had no idea how to start this conversation. “How have you been?” he asked quickly, awkwardly.

Sigyn quirked her head to the side. “I’m a prisoner in a gilded cage while my husband is confined in his cell.” There was no trace of bitter sarcasm in her voice. “Though I suppose things could be worse. I could be dead.”

“I have heard some troubling things lately.” And just like that her smile was gone. Her whole body tensed, drawing up upon herself. “You’ve been going to the healers almost every night to get sleeping droughts.”

“That’s because I’m having trouble sleeping. Living under constant supervision will do that.”

“Is it just that, Sigyn?” Thor stepped forward carefully. “Or does it have to do what you told my brother?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You dream of Asgard burning, of darkness. They keep you awake at night and that is why you ask for the sleeping draughts.”

“How could you possibly…” she stopped, glancing upwards. “Heimdall.”

“He chose to tell me instead of the All-Father.”

“Let me guess,” she snapped. “In the hopes that I might be more willing to tell you than Odin.”

“Because I will not kill you for seeing him.” The anger drained from her face. “You were frightened, and went to the only person you thought might give you comfort. I cannot blame you for that.”

“I should have cloaked myself better,” she muttered.

“Sigyn,” he sat next to her, and she eventually looked up at him. “I know I cannot turn you from him. But if Asgard is in danger, so his he. If there is anything you think might help or be important, please…”

She was quiet, staring at her hands folded in her lap. “They are just dreams, Thor.”

“Yet you believed them so much that you sought Loki out even if getting caught meant your life.”

“All I see is darkness and Asgard burning,” she finally said. “Along with the other nine realms. I hear their screams. Smell the burning flesh.  And my mouth tastes of blood and dirt when I wake.” She took a shaky breath. “Loki was wrong; the wine didn’t help.”

What she said matched what Heimdall heard, yet he wished there had been more. “I am sorry sleep does not bring you comfort.” When she didn’t answer, he pressed further. “Do the sleeping droughts help?”

“A little. It mostly just dulls them, as though I’m watching my dreams through fogged glass.”

“Have you spoken to the other healers about it more? Perhaps they know of a different remedy.”

She laughed, but there was little warmth to it. “They already think me mad, Thor. Let’s not give them more reason to suspect so.”

“You aren’t mad, Sigyn.” He knew what the rumors about her were. Any one of Fandral’s women had a story or two about her wandering the halls, muttering to herself incoherently. Volstagg’s children told stories about how she made mice talk to one another about how much food they stole from Odin’s plate that night to make them laugh. Darker rumors were that she wanted to take Loki’s place as the trickster of Asgard. Thor knew that wasn’t true; she missed him, and used any connection to him she could to keep him close, even if it was just his tricks.

“Aren’t I? I’m surprised you haven’t noticed yet.”

“Noticed what?” Her gaze drifted to the corner, and he followed. In the shadows, he could make out the shadows of a man. “Who’s there?”

“See for yourself.” The figure stepped out of the shadows and Thor jumped to his feet, ready to call Mjolnir to him. “Say hello to your brother.”

Loki didn’t move, didn’t speak, didn’t even smile; he just tilted his head to the side slightly. “What have you done, Sigyn?” Had she really broken Loki out of prison? And how would the guards or Heimdall not have seen this? Thor reached out, but as soon as his hand passed through Loki’s shoulder, he disappeared in a wave of shimmering blue light.

“I’m afraid of forgetting what he looks like.” She said, heartbreakingly quiet. She sat up a little straighter, trying to appear more confident after such a confession. “Besides, I have a lot of free time and not a lot of friends. A girl gets lonely.”

“Your skills have improved, sister.” As he spoke, she created another version of Loki, this time standing in the opposite corner as he had been before, by her window and no longer in the shadows. It was a little unnerving that his ‘brother’ made no move to do anything. “Though, I would not bring him as your escort to the banquet tonight.”

“You don’t think the guests would find it amusing?”

“I think you would have even more Einherjar following you than you do now.”

Sigyn rolled her eyes. “Gods know we can’t have that. They’re stifling enough as it is. Looks like I will have to attend by myself again tonight. And no, Thor, before you ask you cannot be my escort, though I appreciate the thought. But we both know that I will end up staying at the feast longer than you will.”

So she, too, had noticed him leaving each night. “You will not try to convince me to stay longer?”

“I understand the need for privacy better than most.” She glanced over towards the figure standing by her window. “As well the longing for someone kept so far away from you.”

“You know I cannot release him for you, not even if I wanted to,” he said gently.

“I know.” She was quiet for a moment before drawing herself upright again. “What I do not know is why you are still here moping. The Bifrost is restored, and from what I hear the realms are at peace. I’d have thought you long gone by now and smooching Jane.”

Thor couldn’t help but smile at her use of the Midgardian word, no doubt learned from Darcy. “Jane is on Midgard.”

“So was Loki, if you remember correctly. And the lack of a Bifrost didn’t keep me from him. You could have Heimdall drop you in her living room, yet you retreat to the observatory each night, have Heimdall look in on her, and then retire to your chambers to brood.”

“It’s more complicated than that…and I do not brood.”

“Very well, you’re _pining_. Skip the banquet and have the gatekeeper drop you off on Midgard; you’ll be happier for it.”

His trust in her had not been completely destroyed, despite her alliance with his brother. The part of him that sounded like his father reminded him that she would be looking for any reason to get him out of Asgard, for who knows what she had planned. Yet if she had wanted to attempt anything, she could have made her move the entire time he was off-world fighting. “Is that what you would do?” He still trusted her advice, even now, if only because she did not dismiss his affection for Jane as pointless.

“It’s what I _did_ do, Thor. Remember? That’s how I ended up in this pretty cage.” She toyed with the green fabric around her wrist, secured underneath a golden cuff bracelet. “And with this.”

“You still do not regret it, then?”

 Sigyn looked towards the illusion of his brother, still standing near the window. “Sometimes,” she admitted. “Not finding him or even joining with him, no. I’ll never regret that. I regret that it came to this.” She was silent for a moment before standing. “I need to get ready for the banquet. I shall see you there.”

The conversation was over, and he nodded. “I will. Thank you…for all your help.”

“Thank you for not telling the All-Father.” She smiled at him. “No go, before I scream for the guards,” she teased.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

The celebration went well into the evening, and while Thor had begun the night with his friends, he eventually drifted on his own. Fandral had two women with him, one seated on each side. Sif had stepped outside some time ago and had not come back. Volstagg was entertaining a group with stories of the battles they had fought across the Nine Realms. As his stories grew louder and more exciting, even the children that Sigyn was entertaining with tricks ran over to him. He wanted to enjoy it with them, to laugh and drink himself senseless but he couldn’t. Thoughts of Jane and a future kingship weighed heavily on his mind.

"You would think you lost the battle given by the look on your face," Sigyn said as she sat next to him.

"I am not in much of a celebratory mood."

“So I've noticed." Sigyn took a sip of her wine, and he noticed that she scanned the crowd briefly before saying, "Jane would not begrudge you a drink."

"You would know this?" As soon as he spoke he realized his mistake. Sigyn looked at him, one eyebrow arched. "Right. I'm sorry." He paused. “I never properly thanked you.”

“For what?”

“For not telling my brother about Jane. Or about your involvement with her. Or about that vial of her blood you carried.”

Sigyn stared into her drink, absently swirling it in her glass. “If he was inside Selvig’s mind as you say he was, then he already knew. He would have found them anyway regardless of what I said or did, so perhaps you shouldn’t be thanking me.”

“You still made a choice.”

“I have made many choices, and most of them you would not thank me for.”

“This one I am.” Sigyn still wouldn’t look at him; she’d had a hard time meeting his gaze since her return. “You’re right; you’ve made a lot of decisions that I don’t agree with. But this one I am grateful for.”

“Lady Sigyn!” A high pitched voice called out, followed by the patter of two sets of feet. Thor recognized the children they belonged to as two of Volstagg’s, a brother and sister each with a wild mop of red hair that resembled their father’s. The little girl reached them first. “Lady Sigyn, can you show us another of your tricks?”

“Please? The snake one?”

The snake trick; the same one Loki had taught Sigyn all those years ago. The one she had to delight other children with instead of her own. She plucked a bundle of grapes from the table and waved her hand over them before handing them to the girl.

“Give these to your father,” she said with a grin. “And then you’ll see the trick.”

“What are you doing?” he asked once the children ran off.

“You’ll see.” Her grin was too much like Loki’s.

The children bounded up to their father and the little girl shoved the grapes into her father’s hands. Before Volstagg could bring them to his lips, Sigyn flicked her wrist just so, and each grape uncoiled into a shimmering green snake that slid from his fingers onto the floor. The two children giggled and chased after the snakes, nearly tripping several servants carrying trays of food. His wife looked less than pleased as she chased after her children, but Volstagg looked right at them and shook his head with an amused smile.

“I have not seen that trick for some time.” Not since Loki had pulled the same trick on another unsuspecting servant before his coronation.

“You and Volstagg’s children are the only ones who seem to appreciate it.”

She was fortunate; of the Warriors Three, Volstagg would find the most humor in her antics, especially if it amused his children. The same could not be said of the rest of Asgard’s court who glanced at her and muttered amongst themselves, nor of the guards assigned to watch her every move.

“They think I have bewitched you,” she said quietly. “Every second you spend with me, every kind word you say in my defense, only makes their suspicions stronger.”

“I don’t care.” He would not allow petty court gossip to make decisions for him. Thor knew the truth of her involvement with Midgard, and when he had returned with Loki he had made a promise to himself that if he could not protect his brother, he would protect her to the best of his ability. She was lonely, and loyal to a husband few had liked before all of this. A husband she might never see again. She was family, and that was all that mattered.

Sigyn arched an eyebrow. “When you become king, it will get worse. They will think I am controlling the throne through you. That I whisper in your ear like some dark serpent.”

“I said I don’t care.” He wished she didn’t sound so much like his brother and father. “You are not my brother despite your loyalty to him.”

“What a king you will be.” There was a kindness in her voice, yet sadness in her eyes. “Listening to the advice of your mad brother’s wife and pining for a mortal woman. At least you will be an interesting king,” she said as she rose from the table.

“Where are you going?”

She shrugged. “To get more wine. More food. Listen to all the gossip that doesn’t involve me.” She picked up her plate and glass before adding, “I meant what I said earlier. You should have Heimdall drop you off on Midgard so you can stop brooding.”

“I already told you, I don’t brood.” Her lips quirked into a teasing grin, and Thor found himself chuckling despite himself.

“Then quit pining and go get her.”

As she started to walk away, he called, “Behave yourself.”

Without turning around, merely raising her glass as acknowledgment, she answered, “As I always do, brother.”

  

 

* * *

 

 

Sigyn dropped her plate off on a nearby table; instead opting for the a couple pieces of fruit and cheese she could carry around with her easily into the shadows. Many of the Einherjar who were supposed to be watching her were enjoying themselves at the banquet; she may not be able to slip away entirely, but they were too engrossed in their drinks and their women to track her every move.

All of Asgard was alive in celebration of Thor’s return. It was the only topic on everyone’s lips: glorious battles and the Aesir triumphant. Occasionally she could catch bits of other news; there were new trade disagreements between Alfheim and Nidavellir, and even though the fighting was done on Vanaheim, there was still the matter of rebuilding the areas that had been most damaged by the fighting. A sharp, unexpected pang of homesickness struck her, and Sigyn turned away from talk of Vanaheim.

Eventually, Thor got up from his table and left a trail of whispers in his wake. His lack of celebration had not gone unnoticed. A few blamed Jane, more blamed her. There were whispers of her bewitching Thor as punishment for Loki’s imprisonment. Sigyn grinned, shook her head, and popped a grape in her mouth at mention that she had somehow managed to turn Thor into her thrall.

_If he was my thrall, Loki would be free by now._

Not long after Thor left, Sif appeared by her side. Her hair and clothes were still flecked with snow. Judging from the scowl on her face, she had spoken to Thor and it had not gone well.

“What’s wrong with him?”

That caught her off guard. No accusation, no threat, just a question. “Haven’t you heard? I have Thor under some sort of spell.” Not the wisest jest she’d made given her circumstances and the way Sif’s fists balled at her sides. But as amusing as these rumors were, Sigyn was tired of them and couldn’t resist poking at it just a little bit.

“I have considered that. But given his affection for you I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt.”

“How very generous of you.”

“No, generous was Volstagg and I not allowing the Einherjar to haul you back to your chambers after you turned his grapes into snakes. I’m asking you because…”Sigyn could see Sif physically swallow her pride before she continued, “Because I am worried. He has changed, and I do not know how to reach him.”

“He hasn’t spoken to me until today. He apologized for not visiting me, and then we spoke tonight.” Sif and her may not have always gotten along, but she didn’t feel like rubbing salt into the wound by mentioning Jane. “Thor is…exhausted. Between the battles across the nine realms and this business in Midgard, he’s tired. And adjusting to everything that’s happened. He just needs time.”

Sif eventually moved on after a few awkward pleasantries. The banquet soon lost its appeal, and Sigyn moved to one of the balconies overlooking the city. The cool air hit her face and she found that she could breathe freely again. The streets and roofs were covered in a light dusting of snow, and the sounds of the people below had their own melody to them. Sigyn drummed her fingers lightly against the railing, oddly content if only for the moment, and not paying much attention to how long she’d been out there. When the footsteps came up behind her Sigyn hoped, if just for a moment, hoped it was Loki, that they had let him out of his cell just for tonight, but when she turned around it was only one of her guards that had followed her out onto the balcony.

“M’lady. The banquet is over.”

“Over?” She’d definitely been out here longer than she thought. “Let me guess: back to my cage?”

“If you wish it.”

There wasn’t anything more for her here, so she agreed to be escorted back to her chambers. This guard was more respectful than most. Some took the concept of escort literally; they would crowd her space, walk either directly behind or to the side of her, and would all but grab her arm and drag her back to her rooms. This one, however, remained a few paces away, close enough to catch her if she tried to escape, of course, but far enough that she didn’t feel smothered.

Yet walking in silence always made her feel like she was walking to the gallows. “What is your name, soldier?”

He was silent for a moment, and even though she couldn’t see his face clearly, she still sensed that her question had been unexpected. “It’s Theoric, my lady.”

“The All-Father sent one of the famous Crimson Hawks to watch me. Didn’t think I was that important.” When he didn’t respond, she continued. “Are you afraid of me? Is that why you keep your distance?”

“I am not afraid of you.” And that was all he said on the matter before they reached her chambers.

 

The hours ticked by and Sigyn found that sleep would not come easily that night. She would lay in bed, staring at the ceiling or tossing and turning in an attempt to find a comfortable position. Tonight had been a homecoming for Thor and the others, a time to be reunited with friends and loved ones. It was a pang of longing for her imprisoned husband that was keeping her up tonight.

Determined not to let this feeling rob her of another night’s sleep, Sigyn dressed and slipped into the hallway. Theoric was still there, and she dismissed his concerned look with a wave of her hand and stated that she needed to go to the healers. He didn’t follow; her trips to the healers were well known and she always returned.

There were a few healers awake at this hour, one of which was the young woman who wasn’t much older than her (if at all) who had treated her several times.

“Trouble sleeping again, lady Sigyn?” she asked kindly, already starting to gather what she needed for a sleeping drought.

“It seems my body doesn’t recognize that the banquet is over.”

The girl worked swiftly, pouring various liquids into one bottle with expert precision and occasionally putting a stopper on it to shake the ingredients together. “I wish I could have been there.”

“You weren’t missing much. Still, it’s good the warriors are back, I suppose.”

As she handed Sigyn the potion, another voice was heard just down the hallway. One voice was unmistakably Thor’s and it was coming closer to the healing rooms. There was another voice with him, softer, and Sigyn guessed it was probably Sif’s.

Sigyn took the sleeping drought from the healer just as Thor walked into the healing room with the owner of the mysterious voice. They hadn’t seen her just before she ducked behind a column, hidden by the shadows. She was in no mood to deal with anyone’s concern for her.

“Thor,” one of the other healers greeted. “What brings you here? And who is your companion?”

“This is Jane Foster. And we need your help.”

And Sigyn nearly dropped the bottle.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

“When I said ‘go get her’, I didn’t mean literally.”

The healers already had her lying on the table and were surrounding her. Sigyn had dragged Thor as far away from her as he would allow, but kept herself hidden behind a column so that Jane couldn’t see her.

“I had to bring her back here.”

“Have you lost your mind?” she hissed. “The All-Father will be furious with you and who knows what he will do to her.”

“He will not do anything to her.” For all he had changed, Thor was still as stubborn as he’d ever been. “Sigyn, I had to bring her here because she is…unwell.”

Unwell. That word dissolved all other questions and admonitions of Thor’s intelligence. She knew mortals were frail things, but she had a hard time imagining the physicist as being ill enough to require Asgardian care. “What’s wrong with her?”

“I don’t know. One minute Heimdall couldn’t see her anymore, and when someone tried to grab her arm she unleashed some sort of energy attack.”

“She…what?”

“Thor?” Jane called. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes. I’ll be over in just a moment.” Thor turned back to her, and Sigyn was still having a hard time believing that Jane Foster was currently on Asgard. “Would you like to say hello?”

“Not yet.” If Jane was here with new and uncontrolled energy powers, then the All-Father would be there soon enough and her presence would not help the situation. Nor was she ready for this reunion right now. “Let me know when you find out anything.”

For once, Thor didn’t argue with her and she was grateful. He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze before returning to Jane’s side. Sigyn made sure that Jane was preoccupied with whatever the healers were telling her before she darted out into the hallway. Her heart pounded in her chest with each step, the sleeping drought still clutched in her hands though utterly useless at the moment; sleep would not be coming anytime soon.

Theoric was still by her door, and Sigyn wondered if the man ever switched with someone else or if he was just the one who always stood outside her door. Either way, she didn’t like the concerned look on his face.

“Lady Sigyn, are you well? You were at the healers for a while and you look pale.”

She brushed past him into her chambers. “It’s going to be an interesting day; my brother has brought a mortal to Asgard.”

 

Sigyn only drank half of her sleeping drought; she needed sleep but there were too many new developments for her to get more than a few, restless hours. She had risen before the sun, while the rest of the palace was still asleep. Well, at least most of the palace. At the other end of the hallway, two lovers were sharing one last clandestine embrace before sneaking off to their rooms. Her heart clenched painfully at the memory of a time when she and Loki had done the same thing.

_Jane is in Asgard. What is Thor thinking?_

Sigyn felt ashamed at her own cowardice. Thor had defied Odin’s will to bring Jane here—ill or not, it was bound to happen eventually—while she pined and sighed and did absolutely nothing to free Loki. Her punishment had made her fearful and simpering and she disliked it.

_It is not cowardice; it is patience._

“Is something wrong, lady Sigyn?” Theoric came up behind her, though again always giving her enough space, and it wasn’t until he said anything that she realized that she had been too lost in her thoughts to realize that she’d stopped in the middle of the hallway.

“No; everything’s fine.” She started walking again, and so did he. “I thought you all rotated shifts.” She had seen too much of this man in too little time and it worried her.

“I offered to take my friend’s place for the morning shift. He’s missed spending time with his wife.”

His answer felt like a punch to her gut. She knew she shouldn’t resent another couple spending time together, but she had spent _months_ putting her loneliness and longing aside and then suddenly having to look at or hear about this couple or that couple being together felt like salt being ground into her wounds. “That’s kind of you, but I’m sure your wife misses you just as much as your friend’s wife misses him.”

“I have no wife.”

“A husband, then?”

“No husband.”

“A lover? A pet?” _Anything better to do than follow me around constantly_. “Your mother and father must miss you at least.”

She could hear the smile in his voice. “My father is a blacksmith in the city and my mother is too busy running the shop and taking care of my younger siblings to worry much about me. The Crimson Hawks keep me busy, so I have no one to return home to.”

“Then you and I are similar in that regard; I have no one to return home to either.”

“Your husband’s imprisonment…”

“…is not something I wish to discuss.”

“I only meant to say that it must be hard on you.

After that, she wouldn’t answer him. How could she even begin to explain how hard it was for her? So she continued towards the royal wing. Loki’s room had not been opened since he fell from the Bifrost two years ago, and she quickly walked past the sealed doors, towards Thor’s chambers.

Her fist remained hovering just above the door. What would she even say to Jane? _Sorry I used your equipment and your blood to find my husband before helping him try to take over Midgard?_ Jane wouldn’t forgive her, and Sigyn nearly turned around and walked back to her room. There was no point in putting them all through one giant awkward experience.

_Don’t you want to know what happened to her?_ Concern was a bizarre thing; it masked itself as curiosity and in the end Sigyn gave three strong knocks on the door. Silence. Then muffled sounds coming from the other side, and before Sigyn could change her mind and run, the door opened inward.

“Sister!” Thor stood there grinning. “Are you feeling any better?”

“Sleep is still elusive, but otherwise I’ve been as well as I’ve ever been.” She hated all the little awkward pauses that had been cropping up in her conversations lately. “Is Jane still here?”

“She is. Come in,” he said as he stepped aside. “It’s alright, Theoric. I don’t think she’ll get into any trouble if she’s with me.”

Sigyn turned to look at her guard, who looked like he’d been about to follow her into the room. He was either blushing or the early morning sun had cast an unusual light across his cheeks. Either way, she let out a sigh of relief when he nodded and turned to wait in the hallway.

“I will speak to father and see if he will lessen some of your guard; there’s no reason for you to be followed as closely as you are.”

She knew better than to get her hopes up. Being followed around by guards was a gift compared to what her other possible punishments could be. “I’m used to having multiple shadows by now. How is she?”

“She is well for now, but what is afflicting her is worrisome,” he said quietly. “It is the Aether,”

“From the Dark Elves?” It was a name straight out of one of her books, archaic and impossible. “That can’t be right; the Aether was destroyed.”

“It wasn’t; only hidden. Jane found it by accident and it entered her body. It lashes out when she or it is threatened.”

“Are you sure I should be meeting her, then?” Sigyn had expected a tense reunion, not a potentially deadly one.

“She would not harm you.”

“I used her blood to find Loki after telling her it was to help find a way to _you_ , and then left her to help him attack New York. Somehow I doubt that.”

Regardless, Thor led her into the main living room, where they waited. Jane walked through another door moments later, dressed in Asgardian dress and armor that looked both surprisingly fitting for her and odd as she had never seen a mortal dressed in Asgardian clothes before now. She was grinning at Thor and practically glowing when she came through the door, but as soon as she saw Sigyn her smile faded.

“Sigyn? What are you doing here?”

Well, it certainly wasn’t the worst greeting she’d expected. “I…was in the healing chambers when you were brought in, and I wanted to make sure you were well.”

“I meant what are you doing in Asgard? You told us you had no intention of coming back.”

Sigyn could practically feel the confusion when Thor looked to her. She had failed, in the few times they had spoken, to mention that her original plan was to find Loki and run to the farthest reaches of the Nine Realms and wait until all sins were forgotten by time. “My plans changed.”

“Did that change have something to do with New York?” There was the anger, just beneath the surface. “Is that why you were helping me in the first place, to find Loki and help him?”

“My plan had been to find Loki, yes. Helping him... Jane, by the time I found him his plan was already in motion.”

“You still lied to me. Used me.”

“Yes, I did. And for that, I ask your forgiveness.”

“My forgiveness?” Sigyn took a step back, fearful that the Aether would pick up on her anger and attack her. “What about all the people in New York who died, who lost family and friends and homes? What about Erik? He hasn’t been right since Lokiinvaded his mind. Are you going to ask for their forgiveness, too?”

“I would if I could; but I can’t. I cannot change what my husband did, and I’m imprisoned in Asgard. All I can do is ask forgiveness for the wrongs I have done to you.”

Jane’s lips pursed together and she looked at the ground. “I don’t know if I can give you that.”

She had expected as much; that didn’t mean it hadn’t hurt. She pulled her back up a little straighter before giving a slight bow of her head. “Understood. I hope you enjoy the rest of your time in Asgard.” Sigyn turned and quickly made for the door

 She was nearly to the door when Jane called out, “Wait!” She stopped but she didn’t turn around. “You really didn’t know what Loki was planning when you were looking for him?”

“I did not.”

“Then why lie about it? Why not tell us you were looking for him?”

“Loki is not an innocent; I know this. But I loved and missed him all the same. Once I realized you could help me, I was not about to risk losing that by telling you the truth. I was willing to do anything to see him again. A sentiment I thought you might understand.” Before Jane could respond, Sigyn marched out into the hallway, past Theoric, who was still waiting by the doorway. His footsteps trailed behind hers, and there was no way for her to out run him. It was another exercise in composure, and Sigyn lifted her head a little higher.

_There is no point in being upset about this. You knew it might turn out this way. Do not cry over a mortal who will be dead long before your hair starts to turn grey_ , she thought even as tears stung the corners of her eyes. If the Aether really was back, as Thor claimed, then there were bigger issues at play in addition to Jane’s safety, and Sigyn made her way towards the Archives.

 

 

* * *

 

Jane stood with Thor in the awkward silence that followed Sigyn’s absence. “I…may have been a little hard on her.” Sigyn’s parting comment had struck her deeper than she thought. She remembered the two of them working in her lab in New Mexico, both of them desperate to find the person they cared about. It was a strange bond that Jane didn’t know quite what to make of yet given the aftermath of New York.

“Your anger is justified.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and Jane couldn’t help but grin as she pressed against his side. “But Sigyn does have a good heart, even if it belongs to my brother.”

“I’d like to talk to her again, I think. You know, before I go back home.”

Thor gave her that grin that made her stomach do little flips. “And so you shall. But first, a tour of my home.”

 

  

* * *

 

Loki positioned his chair so that it faced his bed, and stared in silence at the figure that lay upon it.

“I have never known your silver tongue to be quiet,” she said, sitting up fully and drawing her legs to her chest.  

“Lack of decent company has left me without anything interesting to talk about.”

It wasn’t the soft, flowing silks and metal armor of Asgard she wore, but thicker wool accented with leather and fur. Thin leather and metal bracelets dangled from her wrist, and each of her rings, though made from metal, resembled a rune made from sticks.

_…Winter had come early to Vanaheim, otherwise his father would have postponed this diplomatic trip. Snow dusted over the ground, and the wind was chilled, though not freezing. It didn’t bother him but Thor had grumbled about it a little before they met with the various dignitaries._

_Sigyn had been there, of course. She remained to the edge of the crowd, closer to the trees than the throng of people. Dressed in the traditional clothes of the Vanir, he had nearly missed her. Here, without the trappings of Asgard, she looked half wild and even more beautiful. And later, in one of the castle’s abandoned rooms, she had allowed him to claim that beauty and bind himself to her…_

“This was a mistake.” He never handled longing very well, and conjuring this image of Sigyn on his bed only stirred a longing in him that turned bitter. “I should release you, let you find someone else and be done with it.” he spat.

 She rolled her eyes. “You know I’m not going to leave.”

Stubborn, just like her father, Iwaldi. It seemed he had gotten that right. “You would be a fool not to.”

“Yes, yes your ‘foolish girl’. I know.” She leapt up from the bed and marched over to where he sat, placing her hands on the arm rests and leaning forward so that her face was just inches from his, lips curved into a wicked smirk. “Besides, we both know you are not that selfless. You will never let me go.”

Something dark and possessive roiled inside of him at the thought of another man being with her. She was _his_ ; he loved her regardless of if he deserved her or not.

“Never,” he breathed, reaching up to touch her cheek. She glimmered around the edges, fading into a golden light under his fingertips before disappearing.

“She misses you, too,” a familiar voice said from behind him. His mothe—Frigga was standing in the middle of his cell, hands clasped neatly in front of her.

“Is she well?” Suspicions crept up on him; had something happened to her?

“She still has trouble sleeping, but otherwise yes she is.” Frigga stepped closer and stood next to his chair. “I would have brought her with me again but she is too heavily guarded.”

“It’s for the best, I’m sure.” Seeing her twice in one day in addition to his mother would be more painful than he felt like dealing with. “To what do I owe this visit?” he asked, rising from his chair.

“I wanted to see you.”

“Curiosity? I do believe there’s a saying about that being detrimental to cats.”

“Motherly concern.”

He let out a heavy sigh and avoided her gaze. She had a way of poking around the weak spots in his armor and stirring up warmth and nostalgia in him unbefitting a frost giant and would-be conqueror. Still, he was glad to see her, even if he wouldn’t admit it. “I’ve been bored, but fine.”

The main doors leading out of the dungeon opened with a thud that sparked a momentary panic, and the sound of voices soon followed. Had the All-Father found out his wife was here against his expressed command. Even if she wasn’t ‘here’ per se, he didn’t want her to leave just yet and face her husband’s wrath. What followed were only more prisoners from his brother’s battles across the Nine Realms. According to the last message Sigyn had managed to send him, they appeared to be from Vanaheim. His panic ebbed as he watched them pass, a mischievous forming on his lips.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I pretty much listened to Lana del Rey's "Once Upon a Dream" on repeat while writing this chapter, especially towards the end.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

For something as legendary as the Aether was supposed to be, Sigyn could find precious little on it in the Archives, save only that it was  gone, destroyed by King Bor at the end of the war with the Dark Elves. A history clearly written by the victors. Nothing on how to stop it or control it. Nothing on how to help Jane.  She contemplated using the bowl, but it had been cryptic as of late and of little help in anything.

“Lady Sigyn.” Fandral came up behind her and Sigyn rolled her eyes. This lack of privacy was really starting to bother her. “Have you heard? Thor’s brought Jane to Asgard.”

“I heard,” she answered, not looking up from her book. “Not only was I there but I’ve already spoken to her. It didn’t go well.”

“Really? Well, I for one am shocked.” Sarcasm, and she nearly smacked him with the book for it.

“Is there a reason you’re here, Fandral?

“Yes, and I’ll get to that in a moment. Did you know your guard is smitten with you?”

“What? No, he’s not.”

“Uh huh. Then why did I have to mention Thor’s name for him to let me get close to you. Why does he watch you like a hawk even now? And I distinctly remember him at the banquet last night; when was the last time he took a break?”

“He is diligent.” She distinctly ignored the last question. “I am a traitor wed to a war criminal; a girl who should be grateful she’s allowed to live.” _Sing the songs they taught you._

“Diligent, right. If that’s what you want to call it…”

“You mentioned Thor,” she said eager to change the subject. “Is that why you’re here?”

“He said that Jane wishes to see you again before she returns to Earth.”

“To deliver one parting slap, perhaps.”

Just as she was about to flip the pages of the book, Fandral placed his hand on one side to keep her from doing so. “Thor would not request your presence if he thought she would do that.” Since it seemed she wasn’t going to get any reading done for a bit, she closed the book but wouldn’t look at him, instead absently tracing the pattern embossed into the cover. “Sigyn,” he said quietly. “You needn’t do this to yourself. He would not show such devotion to you were your places reversed.”

_I make no promises that I will be a good husband._ “Loki is unpredictable. Who knows what he would do in my position,” she said, despite the doubt gnawing on the edges of her mind. “Such speculation is pointless.”

“I think you know, but you’re scared you’ll be alone if you admit it. But you won’t be. Sigyn, no one wants to see you go through this.”

He was trying so hard to be kind, she could hear it in his voice, but every word he spoke grated along her nerves. She was tired of all of it, of everyone’s condolences, of their offers of release. She had made a choice, a difficult one she had not taken lightly, and now all she wanted was to be left alone with it. “Thank you for your concern, Fandral, but there are bigger issues at work here than the state of my marriage. Now if you’ll excuse me, I believe you said Thor is waiting for me.” She pushed past him and hurried towards the exit, Theoric coming up beside her.

“Of all the men in Asgard,” he called after her. “Why him?”

She stopped, not turning to face him. Theoric did as well. “Would you like me to silence him for you, my lady?”

For a moment, she entertained the idea. No doubt whatever Theoric’s means of silencing would at least be mildly amusing. But Fandral’s earlier comment about him being smitten had lodged itself under her skin, and Theoric’s offer scratched at it. She shook her head and continued out of the archives.

He would not be getting an explanation of her relationship with Loki. Only two people had earned the right to even part of that knowledge: Darcy and Thor. She was exhausted, irritated, concerned about Jane and lack of answers regarding the Aether, and longed for her husband. She could not trust what would come out of her mouth if she stayed.

Fandral’s comment about Theoric lingered still, picking away at her thoughts with each step he took behind her. “Last night, when you said you weren’t afraid of me, what did you mean?”

“Exactly what I said, my lady. I don’t fear you.”

“And why not?”

He knew where this conversation was going; he just smiled and said, “Because I don’t.”

“I see. Is that why you picked up an extra shift watching me? To prove something to your friends in the Crimson Hawkes?”

His smile faded. “I told you, my friend misses his wife.” And the knife twisted a little more. “Why do you think you were assigned a guard in the first place?”

“Because my husband is imprisoned for attempted genocide and attacks on Midgard, the latter of which I helped with. I can only assume I’m not in prison because of Thor’s and the queen’s intervention, and the guard is to make sure I don’t pick up where he left off.” _Or try to get him out_.

“And you’d be partially right. Most of the guards selected to watch you view you with suspicion.”

“Then what am I missing?” She’d listened to others conversations in the shadows, heard the rumors about her, but all she had gathered was that her return to court hadn’t been met with celebration and those outside (and mostly inside) Thor’s inner circle didn’t trust her.

“Loki’s attack on Midgard wasn’t popular, but there are some who aren’t terribly upset by what he tried to do to Jotunheim.” Sigyn stopped and looked up at him. Did he, or anyone else, know about Loki’s parentage? Would they still feel that way if they did? “If there were to be an uprising of any kind from these people, you would be someone they might turn to.”

“And the guards are watching to see who my would-be conspirators are. And if what they say is more than idle talk.” She was another pawn, and in a way that angered her more than the rumors she knew circulated about her. “That doesn’t explain why you’re closer than my shadow, or why you show more concern for me than any of the other guards I’ve had.”

Theoric wouldn’t look at her for a moment, and she suspected Fandral was right: he was smitten. “Your husband’s enemies are now your enemies,” he said quietly. “Others see guarding you as a way to monitor your actions; they are not as concerned with protecting you.”

Sigyn crossed her arms over her chest, closing up on herself. Loki had many enemies now, but the only enemy she had been concerned with as of late was the All-Father changing his mind and bringing the axe down on her neck. Other enemies had been all but forgotten. “You’re implying you’d protect me?” _Not really helping the not-smitten argument_. He nodded. “Why?”

“Your loyalty is…admirable. I do not want to see you hurt or made a pawn for it.”

“Let me guess, admirable but misguided?” She’d heard several variations of that before. Loyal, but to the wrong side.

“No, just admirable. I don’t agree with what your husband did, Lady Sigyn, but your courage and devotion is…inspiring.”

She took a step back and avoided his gaze. It was too warm, too kind for someone who didn’t know her. Fandral was probably right; this guard was smitten with her, and it would be cruel to let him think he had any chance with her. Still, he had been kind to her, and given her several interesting pieces of information. She could at least let him down gently.

“You know I have given my heart to my husband, yes?”

He just smiled and said, “I do ask for it nor offer you mine, my lady, merely my sword and shield.”

“Sigyn!” She thanked whatever deity took pity on her and turned towards the voice that called her. The queen had rounded a nearby corner and was approaching them. Theoric took a step back, and she breathed a little easier. “Am I interrupting anything?”

“Not at all, your Highness,” Theoric answered. “Lady Sigyn and I were just discussing protocols for an acceptable course of action should someone bother her with unwanted attention.”

“I suspect this has something to do with Fandral in the Archives. Walk with me.” Sigyn fell into step with the queen, with Theoric dropping several feet behind them. “As much as it pains me, you are still a prisoner,” she said quietly. “It would be safest if you refrained from drawing too much attention to yourself.”

“Understood.” The reminder stung given Theoric’s revelation. “I just…grow tired of people asking why I stay with him, of telling me that no one would blame me if I left him.”

“People will continue to talk or a while, but they will eventually give up.” She glanced back at Theoric before leaning in closer. “Do you think you can get away from your guard tonight?” she whispered.

“Possibly.” If it was Theoric, he would look the other way. She couldn’t say the same for some of the others. “Why?”

“I have a way for you to see Loki. I didn’t want to say anything before when you were under the most supervision. But I think seeing each other would be good for the both of you.”

Sigyn smiled, color and warmth blooming in her cheeks. “I’d like that. How is he?”

“He is angry, hurting, and I think he misses you.”

“I miss him too.”

“Then I will send for you later tonight. In the meantime, I’m on my way to see Thor and Jane. Would you like to come with me? I think Thor is looking for you.”

“That…probably wouldn’t be a good idea. I saw them this morning. Jane still hasn’t forgiven me for, well, everything, and I don’t want to upset her further.”

The queen smiled and gently patted her arm. “I’m sure once all this business with the Aether has died down, you two will be able to mend this bridge.”

She doubted that; there were some things that were fatal to friendships and participating in an attack on one’s home world counted as one. “I hope so,” she said anyway because it was true.

She and the queen parted ways, and Sigyn slouched against the nearby pillar, a smile on her lips that was too difficult to contain.

“Good news, my lady?” Theoric asked.

“Possibly.” She pushed herself off the column and walked back towards her room.

 

It was the rumbling she felt first; subtle, but enough to make her pause. Her bowl and a vase wobbled just slightly on her mantle, rattling but not falling over. Sigyn gently touched the bowl. It hadn’t been moved from its place on the mantle since she returned to Asgard, nor had she used it for fear it would drive her mad. Her dreams were just starting to return to normal, even if she hadn’t slept very well, and Sigyn would be lying if she said she wasn’t a little afraid of using the bowl again. But her trip to the archive had given her no answers about the Aether, and if she wanted to help Jane, there weren’t many more options.

Then there was another rumble, and then another, before a horn blared in the distance. A horn that meant there was trouble in the prisons. She knew they were bringing back prisoners from Vanaheim, and prayed it was just a skirmish. Yet Loki was there, and she couldn’t help the jolt of worry that raced through her. She cracked the doors open and peeked out. A few Einherjar were running down the hallway.

“Theoric?” she whispered. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know. You should stay in there.”

“Yeah, no.” She slipped through the door and ducked behind another column. She wasn’t going to wait around for someone to tell her what had happened.

“Theoric!” Another guard came up to him, and Sigyn held her breath, melting into the shadows. “You’re needed.”

“What about the prisoner?” It was the first time she’d heard him refer to her as such.

“Bar the door. Make sure she can’t get out, and then meet us by the prisons.”

Sigyn waited until he was gone before stepping out of the shadows. “You know I’m not going in there, right?”

“I’m sure it’s nothing serious.”

“Then why would they pull you away from your duty?”

He didn’t have an answer for that. “Fine.” He unsheathed one of his swords and held it out to her hilt first. “Then at least take this.”

“Don’t you need that more?”

“I’ll get another. Just in case this is worse than we think.”

Sigyn looked at the sword for a moment before sighing and taking the grip in her hand. As soon as she did, Theoric grabbed her arm. With a quick “Forgive me, my lady”, he opened the doors and shoved her back into her room.

“Theoric!” No matter how hard she banged or shook the doors, they wouldn’t open. “Damn it, let me out!” No answer. He had probably already gone. She still had his sword and tossed it on the ground in a fit of frustration.

Had Loki managed to escape somehow? There were few things going in the dungeons that would require this many Einherjar. She paced back and forth, frantically trying to think of that would require this kind of reaction, and avoiding the one she most feared. She could strangle Theoric for trapping her in here.

Outside, someone screamed, and soon more and more voices joined it in one terrified chorus. A cold dread wormed its way through her and she rushed to the window. A giant ship loomed over the Bifrost, and smaller ships were descending rapidly, coming towards the palace, and Sigyn was glad Theoric had left her with a sword.


	5. Chapter 5

Five

The battle was over as soon as it began, a blitz of fire and screams that seemed to come in with the wind. Sigyn carefully made her way through the ruins, stepping over the toppled pillars and carefully turning over what stones she could. She may have donned her armor, and still had Theoric’s sword gripped tight, but by the time she had been able to get out of her room, the battle was done. Now, she was helping look for survivors, be they Asgardian or not.  

There was a gasping, wheezing sound coming from beneath the pillars, and Sigyn called for the healers and several Einherjar to help her move the stone. The woman wasn’t much older than herself; her face was covered in dirt, blood, and streaked with tears, her hair was matted, and her clothes were torn.

“Shhh….it will be alright,” she whispered, kneeling next to her. Her breathing was labored, and several bones were probably broken, but if the healers worked quickly she would live. “You’re alright. The healers will be here soon.”

“My boy,” she wheezed. “Where’s my boy? He…he was right with me…”

Sigyn’s heart clenched. She’d seen too many small bodies today. “I’m sure he’s alright. He’s probably just hiding and is too scared to come out. What’s his name?”

“Leofric.”

The healers came up behind her and Sigyn made room for them. “I’ll make sure he finds his way back to you,” she said, just before they put the woman on the gurney, groaning as they moved her. If she heard her, she didn’t acknowledge it.

She didn’t have high hopes for finding anyone. The survivors had been few and far between. Still, she had promised to find the woman’s son, and she would at least try.

“Mama?” a voice whimpered behind her. A little head poked up from behind some debris, his eyes wide and watery. “Wassat mama?”

“Are you Leofric?” He nodded, and Sigyn thought she would burst into tears. At least something good had happened today. She waved over one of the guards, and knelt down at the boy’s level. He had a cut on his forehead, but otherwise looked fine. “Your mama’s going to be just fine, and she’ll be so relieved to see you. Now, this soldier is going to take you to her so you both can get fixed up.”

“The bad men are gone, right?” he asked, taking the guard’s hand.

“Yes, the bad men are gone. No one is going to hurt you, I promise. Right?” she asked the guard, who smiled down at the boy and nodded. “Now run along. Your mama’s waiting for you.”

Once they were gone, Sigyn plopped onto a piece of debris. She was exhausted, mentally and physically, but too much so to start crying. There were still too many unanswered questions, but she had gotten one of the guards to tell her that it was the Dark Elves. She nearly didn’t believe him until she saw the bodies.

To her left she heard the scraping of stone against the floor. More survivors. Sigyn pushed herself to her feet and started towards the sound but stopped when she saw who it was. A Dark Elf was struggling underneath a piece of broken column, both of its legs pinned between it and floor. It looked pathetic, but she had no sympathy for it.

“I should remove your head from your shoulders.” It scrambled more, clawing and making pained noises. “Are you afraid, monster?” A cold fury took her. What right did this creature have to be afraid after what it and its kind had done?

She grabbed it by its braid and shoulders and yanked hard enough to free it and make it scream, before dragging it to the center of the room and threw it to the ground. The legs were too injured for it to get away. “I asked if you were afraid.” She kicked it in the stomach so it stopped crawling, and then drew Theoric’s sword and held it to its throat. “I should put you out of your misery,” she panted, tears stinging her eyes. “For everything you and your kind did here today.”

“Sigyn.” Sif had come into the chamber, followed by several more guards. “The All-Father and Thor want all survivors kept alive for questioning.”

 “They need to pay for what they’ve done, for the lives they took.”

“And they will. For all that and more.”

_More_. The word made her lower her sword, and the other guards picked the elf up and dragged it, grunting and wailing in pain, out of the chamber. As the anger drained, so did her strength, and the sword arm felt like lead. Sif did not follow the guards, and unease coiled in Sigyn’s stomach. “What else has happened?”

For a long moment, Sif seemed to be elsewhere, her gaze unfocused. “Sigyn…the queen is dead.”

 

* * *

 

Sigyn found Thor and Jane in his mother’s chambers, seated on one of the cushioned benches, his head in his hands, Jane’s head resting on his shoulder and trying to comfort him. Still, the room was too empty, the queen’s…absence…a vacuum that sucked the air out of the room.

“Thor.” He looked up, cheeks damp and eyes slightly red. She hadn’t reacted when Sif told her, and had held herself together in a numb fog as she sought him out, now Sigyn couldn’t keep a few tears from sliding down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry.”

He tried to smile, but his lip quivered and he lowered his gaze. “You were safe then, during the attack?”

“Yeah. My guard locked me in my room.”

The noise that came from him was part sob, part laugh, and it made Sigyn’s heart ache. “Good. I’m glad you weren’t harmed.”

She stepped closer and could see that Jane had been crying as well. “How did…” She inhaled sharply as the words caught in her throat. “What happened?”

“Malekith. He knew the Aether was here and…” He didn’t need to finish. One look at the devastated look on Jane’s face told her the rest. Frigga had protected her and it cost her her life. Sigyn felt sick, like she would pass out and when she woke the world would be back to normal. “Someone should tell Loki,” he finally added.

“Let me,” Sigyn pleaded.  “He should hear it from someone other than a guard.”

“No.” She turned and saw the All-Father standing at the other end of the room. He looked as tired as the rest of them. “You will not see him.”

“Father, she’s right. He should hear it from her.”

“I said no.” Sigyn’s plea had barely formed before he continued. “And why should she see him? Why should she see her husband when my queen---my wife--- is dead?” He turned his gaze to her, and Sigyn felt the full weight of his fury and disgust aimed at her. “You are a brazen thing; I cannot remember a prisoner of Asgard ever being allowed to wander freely armed with a sword.” In her haste to find Thor, Sigyn had forgotten that she still had Theoric’s sword, and dread clawed at her. “I agreed to her request that you remain free on the condition that you never see him again, and you insult her memory only mere hours after her death by asking to see him.”

“I do not mean to insult her memory,” she said through gritted teeth. “But she would want…”

“Do not speak to me of what she would and would not want!” he bellowed.  “Do you think she kept you alive for him? No, you are alive out of political alliance to your mother, and so that Iwaldi will not turn his guilds against Asgard. Otherwise, you would be rotting in some off-world prison.”

“Enough!” Thor yelled, getting to his feet. “She’s not to blame for what happened here today.”

“Maybe not. But I will not let them find any comfort in each other, not over this. Let them bear their grief on their own. Now get out.” It took all of her strength to keep from shaking. Despite the threat, she would not show him that she was scared. She nearly made it to the door when he cleared his throat. “Prisoners do not get swords.”

She turned and carefully placed the sword on the ground. “Apologies, All-Father.” It was a show of subservience, one that the All-Father quickly dismissed.

All the while she hurried back to her own chambers, Sigyn waited for the sound of soldiers coming after her. Instead, the only thing she heard was silence.

 

* * *

 

Had his grief not exhausted him, Thor would have swung at his father. “You did not have to be cruel to her. Mother cared for her, as she did Loki, and all of us despite our faults.”

“She needs to remember what she is.”

“Mother wouldn’t be pleased.”

It was his grief that spoke, and his father’s grief that answered in the menacing glare. But there was no fight left in either of them, and with a sigh, he left them. Thor sank down beside Jane again.

“Should we talk to her?” she asked.

He shook his head. “She’ll want to be alone right now.” Jane’s presence was a comfort, and right now it was the only one he wanted. Her head rested on his shoulder, her arm curled around his.

“If I hadn’t been here…”

“Jane, this wasn’t your fault.”

“She saved me.”

“No,” he said, placing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “She saved us all.”

 

* * *

 

She should be reacting more, weeping, _mourning_. The queen of Asgard was dead, murdered in a vicious attack, and all Sigyn could do was sit on the edge of her bed, silent and still as the tears rolled passively down her cheeks. She did weep for the queen, and for Thor and Loki’s loss, for the dead warriors and innocents scattered around the palace, but there was too much grief to bear at once, so she opted for none of it and let whatever pain she felt pass through her like a breeze. Theoric’s words and the All-Father’s threat echoed around her head. Perhaps that’s why she couldn’t grieve properly: fear. Fear that any moment of vulnerability would be her last, that without the queen the All-Father would concoct some new way to deal with her without damaging any alliances. The attack had been sudden; her death would be ‘tragic,’ one of the many casualties, but alas not his fault. Meanwhile, he would either send her off-world or execute her quietly. Or perhaps he would broker new arrangements with her family, ones that weren’t contingent on her being free, or alive.

“Lady Sigyn?” She had been so caught up in her speculation that she hadn’t heard Theoric come in, and for a terrifying moment thought all her fears had come to life. He looked so relieved to see her. “Thank the gods you’re alright.”

“Should I be something else?”

“I assume you heard about the queen. When I came back here and found you gone I feared…”

“You feared what? That I had met the same fate?” She still couldn’t make herself stand, but she had found some of her anger. “You shouldn’t have locked me in here. The queen might still be alive had I been there. Another sorcerer might have made the difference.”

“Perhaps. Or Malekith would have killed you first. Or one of his soldiers. That’s even if you made it to the queen’s chambers in time _and_ safely. To be honest, there were too many things working against you to let you fight.”

“So I had to listen while people died outside my door?”

“I was charged with keeping you safe. So that’s what I did.”

“Well, I don’t think the All-Father would have minded if something had happened to me. In fact it probably would have been convenient for him. Gets rid of me without breaking any political alliances.”

Theoric sighed and moved one of the chairs closer to the bed and sat across from her. “I heard about your…discussion…with the All-Father. Thor believes the king speaks out of blind grief, and that you are in no danger from him if you keep your distance for now.”

She wanted to believe that, that everyone was just grief-stricken and nothing more. “When you said my husband’s enemies were now my enemies,” she whispered. “Who were you talking about?”

He couldn’t look at her. “The All-Father is not on that list.”

“Are you certain of that? How can you be sure that of all the enemies my husband might have made, the greatest one isn’t sitting on the throne?” When he didn’t answer, she pushed further. “You won’t answer because you know you can’t protect me.”

“Do not ask me to commit treason just yet, Sigyn, not when you’re seeing nothing but shadows.”

“Shadows often have a bit of truth, you know.”

“Perhaps, but not this time.” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “You should get some rest before the funeral tonight. I have to rejoin the others for the preparations.”

She nodded, and after a moment’s hesitation, Theoric joined the rest of the Crimson Hawks, leaving Sigyn alone with several hours of loneliness and grief ahead of her.

But with a heavy sigh, a few muttered words, and a wave of her fingers, he didn’t have to spend them entirely alone. An image of Loki materialized before her. She could already tell she messed something up; his expression was too soft, too much like it was before the fall, but she wanted comfort too much to care.

“Loki,” she whispered. “My love, I’m so sorry.” The words stuck in her throat and felt heavy on her tongue. Maybe the All-Father was right in not letting her tell him if she couldn’t even say it to an illusion. His hand reached for her cheek, presumably to wipe the tears away, but she shook her head. He shimmered away and reformed lying on her bed, staring sadly at her, and she sprawled out next to him. It was a foolish, false comfort, but it was better than nothing, better than being alone right now. Loki moved closer and Sigyn allowed herself to cry a little, sniffling and trying to wipe her tears away. If she fell apart now, she wouldn’t make it to the funeral, and she couldn’t let that happen. She needed to be there, for the both of them.

 

* * *

 

Finding out who had told Loki about the queen’s death, without making it look obvious, took longer than Theoric expected, and by the time he found his answer he was too late.

“Bastard never even reacted,” Bjorn said. “Might as well have told him the weather.”

_As though he would show his grief around you._ He’d planned to tell Loki himself, and add that Sigyn was alive. It might ease his grief, or he might not care. He would have done it for Sigyn’s sake, so that it might be one less thing that plagued her, and Theoric hoped for her sake that it was the former.

But if Bjorn had already told him, there was no excuse Theoric could come up with to speak to him without arousing suspicion.

_I’m sorry, Sigyn._

 

* * *

 

All of Asgard was present for the queen’s funeral. Sigyn remained hidden within the crowd so as not to draw too much attention, and for the most part those around her paid her no mind. Thor and Jane stood with the All-Father while he spoke of Valhalla and all the souls that were waiting in their boats for that journey. Some around her held small orbs of light in honor of their loved ones.

And so went Asgard’s queen, her funeral pyre lit just before her boat reached the water’s end. Sigyn watched as the orbs were released, tears streaming down her cheeks.

There was to be no banquet that usually accompanied Asgardian funerals. The realm was at war, and preparations for her defense had to be made. Sigyn made her way back towards her room, the numbness that had kept her composure intact starting to crack.

At the far end of the hallway, with another group of people, were the young woman and her son she had found earlier that day. He saw her first, and tugged at his mother arm persistently until she acknowledged him and looked in her direction. She gave a small, grateful smile and nod before turning back to her conversation. The little boy kept tugging at her arm before his mother put her arm around him.

The exchange conjured images of her own mother, who from what she heard was helping with the defense of Vanaheim. The last time she had seen her was after Loki’s fall and before she left to find him. Freya may not have been the most understanding of her relationship with Loki, but for a short while had tried to comfort her after they all believed him dead. Their relationship had been strained for years, but in light of everything that happened…she wanted her mother.

Unable to hold her composure much longer, Sigyn leaned against the nearby wall and pressed her hand to her mouth to muffle her sobs.

 

* * *

 

Jane found Sigyn after the funeral, leaning against a wall far from any of the crowds. Her face was splotchy, cheeks wet and eyes red, and she avoided making eye contact.

“Sigyn.” Her guard looked to her, and then back to Sigyn who nodded and mumbled something, before he stepped aside.

“I’m surprised you’re not with Thor.” A sniffle punctuated her statement.

“He’s talking to some others and they keep looking at me weird. Besides, I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“I’m fine.”

She wasn’t, though. Her voice was raw, and she could hear the tiredness that must have gone down to her very bones. “C’mon,” she said, holding out her hand. “I don’t know the way back to my room and Thor will be busy for a while.” When Sigyn didn’t move, she added. “We need to talk anyway. This morning we…we didn’t exactly get off on the right foot.”

At first, Sigyn didn’t move and Jane nearly gave up. Perhaps this morning had been final, and there would be no reconciliation between them.

“Don’t feel too bad,” Sigyn said as she pushed herself off the wall. “When I first came here, it took me a year before I could walk around without getting lost.”


	6. Chapter 6

Six

“It really took you a year before you knew your way around?” Jane asked. She was seated across from Sigyn, a warm cup of tea between her hands.

“More or less. Some places took less time but once I left my usual haunts it would take me an hour to find my way back.”

“Hold old were you when you were brought here?”

“I was born here, raised on Vanaheim for a while, before retuning here as a young woman.” Sigyn took a sip of her own tea, and quickly decided to change the topic. “So, is Asgard everything you imagined it to be?”

“I don’t have words to describe how amazing this place is.” Jane stared down at her cup, tracing her finger around the rim. “This morning, you asked for forgiveness.”

“And I accept that you don’t have to give it to me.”

“That’s the thing…and this doesn’t have anything to do with the queen’s death or what I saw with you and the All-Father. See, what everyone keeps forgetting is that New York changed everything for us. You’re a thousand years old and have seen at least half of all of human history. You knew about Earth and the Nine Realms and everything else when we were just starting to look up at the stars. Everyone here saw what happened in New York as a horrible act of conquest, but it changed everything for us. How we view the universe, each other, our governments. People whose biggest concern was paying their taxes on time now have to worry about what else is out there and if they’re even safe anymore. Loki dragged us into an era we may not be ready for and he killed thousands to do it. I can’t forgive him for that.”

Sigyn shifted uncomfortably as a fresh wave of guild came over her. Not just Loki; she had played her part in this as well.

“But…you were right this morning about one thing. I do understand what it’s like to search for someone you care about, to keep trying and trying and trying no matter how many dead ends you hit. I can forgive you for lying to us about looking for him. Just tell me…why did you follow him?”

“Because what other choice did I have?” she whispered, her gaze fixed on her cup in front of her. “I begged him to abandon the idea and to run away with me. But there was no stopping him. I already mourned him once; I’ve touched the madness grief can bring and I didn’t think I could survive it again.”

“Sigyn…”

“I don’t expect you to forgive me. I don’t expect you to understand my relationship with him because I’ve been with him longer than you’ve been alive. Nor do I have any other answer for you other than I watched him destroy New York because I couldn’t bear the thought of losing him _again_.”  

Jane was silent in the wake of her confession, and Sigyn expected to be asked to leave. “You forget, Thor died on Earth. I watched the Destroyer kill him, then as he was brought back to life, and I worried myself sick over him when he was in New York. No, I may not feel it with the same depth you do, but don’t ever think that I don’t understand what it’s like to want the one you care about to survive. I can’t forgive your husband for what he’s done. But… I think I can forgive you.”

Sigyn stared into her tea and wished it was something stronger. Jane was too kind; small wonder Thor loved her. “Thank you, Jane.” A few tears threatened to spill from the corner of her eyes. “How’s, um…how’s Darcy?” she asked, wiping at a few errant tears.

“Darcy? Oh, she’s fine. She has an intern.”

“I thought she was your intern?”

“She is; she just has her own now.” Jane smiled and gave a half-hearted laugh. “She’s probably freaking out right now. Thor brought me here without much of an explanation.”

“When you see her again, give her my regards.”

She could see the ‘tell her yourself’ cross Jane’s mind before she remembered. “Do you think they’ll ever lift your punishment?”

“I doubt it. I’m not even sure I’ll be able to keep what little freedom I have.”

“You ran once before and they didn’t find you. Couldn’t you do that again?”

“If I leave it is on pain of death. Besides, Loki is here, and I will stay where he is.”

“They weren’t kidding when they called you the goddess of fidelity.”

“It’s more than fidelity, Jane.” Sigyn snapped her fingers and the tea in both their cups turned to wine. She definitely needed something stronger. “That makes it sound like I do this out of some sense of duty. I stay because I love him, wicked faults and all.” And she knew one day Loki would find his way out of that cell, it was just a matter of time and waiting no matter how hard it was or how much she missed him or how much the rest of Asgard annoyed her. “Same reason you would have torn the cosmos apart to reach Thor.”

Jane looked down into her cup before drinking deeply; perhaps the comparisons between the two were too much. Sigyn was exhausted and felt weighed down from the day’s events. “But,” she took a drink of wine before she continued. “I think there’s been enough talk of weighty subjects. Tell me about your trip to Tromsø.”

 

* * *

 

Long after Jane had fallen asleep and Sigyn had draped a blanket over her, she still remained on the balcony in Jane’s chambers. She’d informed her guard that she would be staying here for the night and had met only a little resistance (she also noted that Theoric would not have questioned her as this one did). The night breeze was warm and rustled her hair. She thought of Loki in his cell and longed for him to be there with her. Did he know about his mother? Someone must have told him by now.

“Loki, I’m so sorry.” she whispered, letting the wind carry her words even though she knew they would not reach him.

 

* * *

 

In his cell, Loki sat amongst the ruin he had made of broken furniture, torn books, and smeared blood. He hadn’t known what that creature’s purpose had been, otherwise he wouldn’t have told him to take the left stairs.

But he had, and his _mother_ had died for it.

He unleashed one final, feral yell in an attempt to purge the guilt.

 

* * *

 

When they came for Jane the next morning, Sigyn protested and demanded to know why and where they were taking her. Their response was drawn swords and orders from the All Father that anyone who resisted would be imprisoned for treason. She guessed that in her case, imprisonment might not be the only option.

“It’s alright, Sigyn,” Jane said, scooping up her coat. “I’ll be fine.”

Thor was livid when she told him; she was certain they could hear his bellowing all the way to the far reaches of Asgard and beyond. When he went to confront his father, she retreated to her rooms, where another unfamiliar guard was waiting outside, in order to regroup, and wait.

 

Sigyn woke to someone shaking her shoulder. It was dark; the candles had burned down so that they cast a dim light that further obscured her guest’s face. She lashed out on instinct, swinging her fist as magic crackled around it, but whoever it was ducked and grabbed her wrist not hard enough to hurt but enough to immobilize.

“Sigyn. Sigyn, it’s alright; it’s me.”

She knew that voice. “Theoric?” The book she had been reading was on the night stand next to her. She didn’t remember putting it there; she must have fallen asleep reading it and he’d move it. Adrenaline was still coursing through her veins, her heart pounding in her ears, and magic still tingled in her fingertips. “What are you doing here?”

“Shhh,” he whispered. “You have to come with me.”

“Why? What’s happened?”

“Thor sent me. He needs your help. Quickly, before someone sees us.”

The guard that normally stood outside her door was staring blankly ahead of him and didn’t move when they slipped out of her rooms. “What’s wrong with him?”

“A spell that will wear off quickly.”

“How did you…”

“I may owe someone a favor, but it did the job. Come on.”

She followed him just outside the castle, her hood pulled up to cover her face, to a secluded tavern with only a few candles lit. They weren’t alone, either. Thor, Fandral, Sif, and Volstagg all sat around a table, and Heimdall stood against the wall. Sigyn had spent months avoiding his gaze, months avoiding being alone with any of them, save for Thor, for too long, and she flinched on instinct. Theoric placed a comforting hand on her back and never strayed far from her side.

“Good, now that we’re all here.” She could practically feel everyone want to ask why _she_ was there, but Thor continued. “What I’m about to ask of you is treason of the highest order. Success will bring us exile and failure should mean our deaths. Malekith knew the Aether was here, he can sense its power. If we do nothing he will come for it again, except this time he will lay waste to all of Asgard. We must move Jane off world.”

“The Bifrost has been shut down and the Tessaract locked away in the Vault,” Sif said.

“There are other paths off Asgard. Ways known only to a few.”

“One, actually,” Thor corrected.

_Loki_. Sigyn watched as everyone else came to the same realization she had the moment Heimdall mentioned the secret paths. Hope bloomed in her chest, but she kept her countenance neutral.

“No,” Volstagg murmured, and then looked to her. “No, there must be another way. What about you? You crossed between worlds without the Bifrost before; surely you would be the better choice.”

“Loki only showed me the ways to Midgard and Vanaheim. Besides, he is the better navigator; he will get you there faster and in one piece.” Inside, she felt like she was trembling, and keeping her excitement at bay was becoming progressively difficult.

“Says the woman who wants nothing more than to see her husband freed.” There was no malice in Sif’s voice, but she had already planted the seeds of doubt. Why release the traitor when his wife was an option?

“Right now, I want nothing more than to help Jane and protect Asgard. And the best person to get Jane off Asgard is Loki.”

“He will betray you,” Fandral said, still not entirely on board.

“He will try.”

They hammered out the rest of the details; Thor would free Loki while Sif freed Jane, Heimdall would alert the All-Father as is his duty, Volstagg would buy them time to get the ship running, and Fandral would prepare the secondary ship for their escape. All of this was dizzying, and Sigyn swayed ever so slightly, steadied by Theoric’s hand on her back. “And what is my role in all of this?

“You and Theoric will create a diversion. Once my father knows what is going on he will summon every Einherjar to stop us. We need a distraction so they don’t swarm us.”

“Just the two of us against, what, half of the Einherjar?”

“Not just the two of you. Give them a red herring send them in the opposite direction.

Everyone looked to her, unsure of what Thor was talking about. Even Theoric looked perplexed. Sigyn inhaled deeply, and in the shadows there was a flicker of golden green light. ‘Loki’ stepped out of the shadows and stood beside her. Sif’s eyes widened, and both Volstagg and Fandral covered their mouths. Theoric and Heimdall made no response, and she guessed the gatekeeper had probably seen her do this before. “I take it this is what you meant?”

Thor nodded, smiling sadly, and Sigyn passed her hand through ‘Loki’s’ to dissolve him.

When the meeting was over, they all went their separate ways, no one saying much to her or even looking at her as they left. Sigyn still had a hard time believing that this was even really happening. Thor stayed behind, and Theoric stepped back to give them privacy.

“They will sound the alarm when they realize Jane is gone; that will be your cue. Keep as many of them running in the opposite direction of us as you can.”

She nodded, and when Thor turned to leave she gently grabbed his arm. “When all this is over…”

“Sigyn…”

“You’ve just asked me to help you free my husband and I won’t even be able to be there when you do. Please tell me that we’ll be reunited at some point.”

“I can’t promise anything right now. But when this is all over I will do everything I can to bring you two together. You have my word.”

 

* * *

 

They had taken their position at the far end of the palace and waited for the alarm to cut through the silence. Every moment that passed made Sigyn more anxious.

“When they figure out that it’s not really Loki they’re chasing, they’ll accuse you of being involved with his escape,” she said, needing to break the silence.

“And I will deny it. I have no way of knowing the real thing from the illusion; I believed I saw the real man and acted accordingly.”

“Still, it’s a risk.”

“The risk is worth it. I am sword to keep Asgard safe, and if freeing your husband will do that then so be it.”

Regardless of his duty, he was a good man and didn’t deserve whatever punishment they might face. “In the event we don’t make it out of this, I just wanted to say thank you. You’ve been kind to me, kinder than most. You’ve been a good friend, and I appreciate that.”

She could see his barely suppressed grin and the way his face colored from cheek to ear. “It has been an honor, Lady Sigyn.”

Trumpets blared in the distance and Sigyn’s heart nearly leapt out of her chest. Loki was free and their plan was in motion. Theoric grabbed her hand and she felt the scrape of his stubble against the back of her hand as he kissed it the way the gallant knight always kisses the lady’s hand in all the stories. “ Good luck, Sigyn.”

“Be safe, Theoric.” Once he let go of her hand and started running down the corridor, she materialized an image of Loki beside her. His eyebrow was arched, and if he could speak he probably would have asked what that about. “Oh, don’t look at me like that.”

Moments later, the shouts and footfalls of a group of Einherjar could be heard thundering down the hallway coming closer. Sigyn melted into the shadows and let ‘Loki’ remain in the middle of the corridor, smiling wickedly at them until they were in view. With a playful wave, he took off running with the Einherjar on his heels, and with Sigyn trailing behind them from the safety of the shadows.

 

Eventually, the search was called off and Sigyn dissolved ‘Loki’ before making her way towards the Archives as she and Theoric had planned. She couldn’t make it to her rooms without drawing attention, but the Archives were easier to slip into without anyone noticing, and no one would question why she was there anyway. Even here, there was talk of Thor’s escape, and she made sure to avoid contact with anyone, keeping instead to one of the neglected aisles, pretending to be engrossed in whatever tome she had plucked from the shelves. Not that she could focus on the page in front of her; all her thoughts were on whether their mission was successful.

Time ticked by too slowly, until a hand on her shoulder brought her back to reality and she nearly jumped out of her skin.

“It’s alright; it’s me. We have to go.”

Dread turned her blood to ice. “And the weather?”

“Clear, with no sign of a thunderstorm.” She let out a sigh of relief; they’d been successful after all. “But we have to go. I’ve been ordered to bring you back to your rooms. They want to question you.”

Sigyn figured they might. Her husband escapes and she’s nowhere to be found, looks suspicious enough. “Very well,” she said, picking up one of the books on a nearby table. “Let’s answer some questions.”

 

The interrogation went quicker than she thought. Sigyn swore over and over that she had nothing to do with Loki and Thor’s escape, that she really had just been in the Archives the whole time, even playing up how shocked she was that they had even been able to escape. As a result, her guard was doubled, and she was not allowed to leave her rooms until this matter had been settled.

There was nothing more for her to do now besides wait. _Bring him back to me, Thor,_ she pleaded as she curled up on the window seat that overlooked the gardens and beyond. _Just bring him back._

 


	7. Chapter 7

Seven

After they had nearly come to blows not five minutes after arriving on Svartalfheim, Loki had fallen into a contemplative silence. Thor had returned to Jane’s side, as though his presence could protect her from the energy coursing through her veins.

“You haven’t asked about her.” Thor said, not looking at him.

_Because I don’t want to hear that she’s dead._ “Because we still need to formulate a plan.”

“She survived the attack. Her guard locked her in her room before she could get involved.”

He was relieved, but that should have relieved him more. Sigyn had proved herself more than capable when a Chitauri turned on her in New York but the Dark Elves were more formidable. Had she been there his mother might be alive, Or he would be mourning both of them. “Why was I never told?”

Thor looked up at him. “You weren’t?”

“All the guard told me was that Frigga was dead.”

“I am sorry. Had it been me…”

“But it wasn’t. You couldn’t be bothered to tell me, and I heard about our mother’s death from some guard. I was prepared to hear that my wife was dead as well.”

Thor shook his head. “No, she is very much alive. She even played a role in your escape.”

His eyes widened in horror. Thor proved himself more a fool every day. “She _what?_ ”

“She created a diversion, distracted a group of guards while we freed you and Jane.”

Loki shot to his feet, and he would have lunged at Thor had he not been piloting their skiff. “Have you lost your mind? Do you have any idea the danger you put her in by involving her?”

“No more danger than you put her in when you included her in your attack on New York.”

“She was in minimal danger at best! Had I been successful, she would have been my queen. And I never asked for her involvement.”

“Yet you still included her, brought her to Germany and New York and had her set up the Tessaract.”

“What else was I supposed to do? She shows up out of nowhere, barely armed, and frankly looking a little worse for wear. Was I to turn her away? Send her back to Asgard and what little mercy the All-Father might have shown her? No, she was safe _with me_.”

“Safe? Your schemes have consequences that affect her as well, Loki. Why can’t you see that?”

Of course he saw it, and contrary to popular belief, he didn’t like it. But, Thor was missing the point, as usual. He meant well, but he only saw the one side to her; he saw her as an innocent, a passive doll that he dragged from offence to another. Sigyn may have a gentler heart than he does, but she was not without schemes of her own. He would never have fallen in love with a doormat. If Sigyn was willing to follow him, he would not insult her by denying her her choice. He’d tried being selfless once and tried to let her go and found it wasn’t in his nature. “I see it, Thor,” he admitted.

“Then be a better man. If not for me or father or mother, then at least for her. Sigyn deserves a husband who isn’t sitting in the dungeons.”

Thor was right about that at least, which reminded him they still needed a plan. Thor may think he can talk the All-Father out of throwing him back into the dungeons, but Loki knew better. At best he might be upgraded to a better cell, or be allowed a visitor once per century. He would never be free and he had no intention of rotting in some prison. “I’ll have to work on that when we get back. Speaking of, we need a plan in order to get back to Asgard in one piece.”

 

* * *

 

Thor rode silent beside Jane as she drove, an empty feeling settling in his chest and the pit of his stomach. Loki was…gone. And unlike when he fell from the Bifrost, there was a cold certainty this time. The heavy feel of his brother’s lifeless body in his arms had squashed any hope that this was another of his tricks. For all the pain and trouble his brother had caused, Thor would gladly trade Loki’s mischief and chaos to have him back and fix the aching chasm his death left within him.

Jane stopped at a red light, waiting. The streetlights cast shadows his brother would have appreciated, and the lights coming from all the windows seemed to peer down at him like a thousand sets of accusing eyes. A woman crossed the street, her blonde hair swinging behind her in a loose braid while she looked at her phone. Her hair was too light, but she reminded him of Sigyn when she would carry around whatever spell book she was studying or magical item she was tinkering with, momentarily oblivious to the world around her.

_Tell me we will be reunited…_

_I give you my word.._.

“What do I tell Sigyn?” Thor asked; his throat was raw and his voice thick. Jane looked over at him before the light turned green and they moved forward. “I promised I would bring him back.”

Jane kept her eyes on the road, but he saw the way her hands tightened on the steering wheel, the way her breath shuddered when she inhaled. “How do you think she’ll…?” The question went unfinished. Jane had only known Sigyn for a few weeks, but even she knew that the grief would wear at her the way wind and water and sand erodes stone over time.

 

* * *

 

Asgard was quiet, still in mourning for the queen and others who died in the attack. Disguised as a guard, Loki made his way to the throne room, however he made a detour towards Sigyn’s rooms. No doubt she would soon hear of his ‘death’ and he wanted her to know the truth.

As he approached, he noticed that there were two armed guards standing outside her room. His fist clenched around the spear he was carrying. How dare his father put her under this kind of imprisonment? He had entered her rooms a hundred different ways before, and could do so now if he only had more time. Thor would be back soon and he had a limited window of opportunity.

_Her grief will make this more believable,_ the trickster in him whispered. If he let her grieve, if only for a short while, no one would question that he was really gone. Only for a little while, he promised both of them; he needed her grief but he would not let her suffer for long.

_Please forgive me, Sigyn,_ he thought as he walked past the guards.

 

* * *

 

The causalities may have been kept to a minimum, but the structural damage done to Greenwich during the convergence was substantial. Which of course meant that traffic was a nightmare and the construction was worse than Darcy’s hometown in the summer. She was giving Thor and Jane a little bit of alone time before they all said their goodbyes and he left for Asgard, and had decided to pick up an air mattress in case they ended up with an extra guest.

Jane had told her about Sigyn, about how she had been searching for Loki when she was on Earth, about her punishment and very recent widowhood. Her husband may have been a megalomaniac bent on domination with a fetish for leather and gold, but she remembered the loving way she spoke of him that night on the roof. Whatever she may or may not feel about Loki’s death, she knew it would devastate Sigyn and her heart ached for her.

When Darcy returned to the apartment, Thor and Jane were sitting on the couch, holding hands with their foreheads touching and looking very much like the most preciously adorable Hallmark card. It warmed her heart, really. Jane had gone through so much to find him that she deserved some happy snuggling time with Thor.

“What’s in the box, Darcy?” Erik asked, pouring himself some coffee in the kitchen and grabbing another one for her. She loved London but sometimes the gray, drizzly weather chilled her to the bone.

“An air mattress.”

“Tired of making Ian sleep on the couch?”

“Not exactly,” she said looking to Jane.

“Darcy and I have been talking,” Jane explained, more to Thor than to Erik. “With your brother’s…passing…there won’t be much need to keep Sigyn under lock and key in Asgard. If they lift her punishment and she’s unhappy there, we thought she might want to come here and stay with us.”

Thor’s gave her the most heartbreakingly sad smile, but it was Erik who spoke. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”

“Is it because you were both at New York?” Darcy asked. She had feared Erik might not be on board with this.

“Aside from the questionable appropriateness of her making a home for herself among the people she and her husband were willing to enslave, I don’t think she’ll be safe here.”

“Of course she will; she’s gone unnoticed on Earth before.”

“Except now S.H.I.E.L.D. knows everything about her. They have footage of her in Germany, and in Stark’s tower. They have her face, her body language, her voice. It will only be a matter of time before they find her, and then who knows what they will do to her.”

“So we convince them she’s not a threat,” Jane answered. “When I spoke to her, she said the first time she thought Loki was dead she nearly went mad with grief. Frankly, I’m worried about her.”

“But do we know she isn’t a threat, or won’t become one? You said she nearly went mad. What if that grief becomes anger, or a desire for vengeance against a world that wouldn’t let her husband be its king?”

“It won’t,” Thor said, staring at the coffee table. “If anything, she will turn her grief inward against herself. But…maybe time away from Asgard will help her. I will see what I can do.”

 

* * *

 

Thor had faced many things that tested his courage—all manner of fearsome beasts and men and armies, dark magic and darker minds—but this always gave him as much pause as any. This was not the first time he had been the one to inform wives of their husband’s passing. It was hard and it was painful, and there were almost always tears, but many understood that soldiers often risked death for glory in battle. But Loki wasn’t a solider, this time he would have to look his sister in the eye and explain that he had broken his promise to bring her husband home.

Two guards instead of one stood in front of her door; so this had been her punishment for her suspected involvement. For a moment they looked like they wouldn’t let him pass, but when they saw what he was carrying—Loki’s helmet resting on top of his cape, which had been folded over to form a small pillow for it—they seemed to understand what had happened and stepped aside. Thor chose not to comment on the sideways glance one gave at what was in his hands. No doubt he did not agree with Sigyn being given Loki’s things the way other war widows often were, but his brother had died with honor, and Thor would allow them both the respect they deserved here.

Sigyn was seated by her window, so engrossed in her book that she didn’t hear him come in. “Sigyn.” His voice was thick and his fingers tightened just a little on the cloak.

She looked up and for a brief moment there was hope in her eyes that nearly brought tears to his; she didn’t deserve this. When she saw the helmet and the cape, her whole face went blank and he couldn’t read her anymore. With movements that were too smooth, too methodical, to be natural, she placed her book down and walked over to him. “I am so sorry,” he murmured.

Sigyn followed the curve of one of the horns with an almost reverent touch before taking both the helmet and the cape and setting them on the end of her bed. There was a sniffle and a shuddering intake of breath before she walked back over to him. Her silence was troubling, even as she rose up on her toes to wrap her arms around his shoulders.

“Where is he?” she whispered.

Did she mean to help prepare his body for a funeral? Thor squeezed his eyes shut and searched for how he can tell her that not only was her husband dead, but there wasn’t likely to be a funeral unless his father agreed to send someone to collect his body and agreed to even give him the honor of a funeral. Or if his body is even still there. The dark elves weren’t the only creatures that lived on Svartalfheim; there may not be anything left to collect. “Sigyn…”

“I knew the All-Father wasn’t likely to welcome him back, no matter he did. I have a small bag already packed with everything I’ll need. Just tell me where he is and I’ll go to him.”

“You can’t…”

“You have no faith in me, brother.” He could hear the faint smile in her voice and his chest felt tighter knowing it was the last she would give for a long time. “I found him once and I’ll find him again.”

“No, Sigyn.” He pulled back so he could see her face, and so that she could see his. “You can’t follow him this time.”

The light in her eyes started to fade. “What are you talking about?”

Thor took her hands and told her of Loki’s plan, of how he had saved his life and Jane’s, and how he had avenged their mother’s death. Tears welled in her eyes with each word, and grief etched itself into her face. Her breath was coming in quick, sharp breathes as the realization came crashing down on her. “You said you’d bring him back.” Her voice was small and brittle. “You gave me your _word_.”

“I know, and I am so sorry.” They were both crying now, and Sigyn pressed the back of her hand to her mouth as she trembled. “I wanted nothing more than to bring him home”

She was trying so hard not to fall apart. Thor took her in his arms and murmured apologies as Sigyn trembled and made these terrible whimpering sobs that clawed at his heart.

“I need to be alone.” She was hoarse and couldn’t look up at him. Her nails pricked through his shirt into his arm, and there was the crackle of magic in the air that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand. He didn’t want to leave her, but she had already stepped back and away from him, her lower lip trembling as she held back her sobs. “Please, Thor. I’ll be fine. I just need…” she caught sight of Loki’s helmet and cape, forgotten on the bed until now and choked on another small sob. “Please. Just go.”

Thor backed towards the door, never letting her from his sight. The crackling in the air was getting stronger, almost pushing him towards the door. There was every chance this room would be in tatters within the hour. “I miss him, too.”

“I know, brother.” Her voice cracked and she glanced up at him. “Now let me grieve.”

When Thor shut the door behind him, he waited. Even through the door, he still felt the blast of Sigyn’s magic, and he heard the crash of furniture against the doors and the walls. He knew this was coming, and he knew the guards would jump to attention and try to see what was going on. Thor gripped their shoulders and told them if they valued their teeth they would not disturb her.

The crashes he expected, as well as the bitter screams and wailing that comes from mourning. What followed was something that made his heart clench and nearly made him turn back for her: the single, raw scream that sounded more dying animal than human.


	8. Chapter 8

Eight

The screams lasted for nearly a day, echoing through that wing of the palace like a trapped ghost from dawn until well into the evening, when it was assumed Sigyn had exhausted herself and finally fallen asleep. Loki had listened to them with a knot in his stomach and bile in his throat. He had known Sigyn would grieve; he just hadn’t known the intensity of it, nor that it would feel like claws were shredding his insides.

The next day, he disguised himself as one of the guards again in hopes that he might hear more from others who were perhaps not so careful with their words if they didn’t know who was listening. Sigyn had refused her breakfast, demanding only the bowl she had used to find him the first time. According to rumor, Thor had managed to bring it back when he returned with him and the Tessaract, after convincing S.H.I.E.L.D. that it had no value to them, as it was unstable and belong in Asgard as well. There had been no debate; Thor brought her the bowl, and Sigyn proceeded to lock herself in her room.

It was such a small thing, that bowl. He had found it in a cave by one of the oldest trees on Nornheim during one of his early adventures with Thor. Magical energy had rippled around it, but when he used it, it was erratic, bordering on nonsensical. Sigyn had always been better at divination than him, which is why when he exhausted his study of it he gave it to her. Clearly she understood something about that bowl as it responded to her.

Once, it had led her across the realms to find him, driven her to do foolish and dangerous things in the name of reunion. He prayed it would not make her go to such lengths again, but rather show her the truth.

The next day passed, and her guards whispered about the rejected food and the soft, haunting wails that came from within. Loki didn’t know how long it took for the bowl to show her the truth the last time, but he itched for her to know it now.

He had crept into her rooms often when they were younger—and she into his equally as often—and he followed the same tradition this night: materializing a rope attached to her balcony railing and hauling himself up. Even from here, he could see the destruction caused by her grief. Much like his cell had been after he was told of Mother’s death, furniture lay broken and strewn about the room. Shards of glass and ceramic crunched under his boots. A dresser was pushed against the doors leading to the main halls. Sigyn had made this her own private prison, locked in here with only her misery for company.

Well, she wasn’t entirely alone. The moment he approached her bed chamber, a familiar, snarling figure stepped out of the shadows, knife poised as though it would slit his throat. Loki stared down his clone; Sigyn’s abilities certainly had progressed.

“Your services won’t be needed anymore,” he whispered, touching its shoulder. The image dissolved into a shimmering, golden light before vanishing.

Her bedroom looked much the same as the other room. Books lay scattered on the floor, furniture was overturned. There were splashes of water on the walls and puddles on the floor, most likely from where she had grown frustrated with the bowls lack of answers. Speaking of, he found it on the floor near her bed, and he picked it up and placed it on the nightstand by her bed, the only piece of undestroyed furniture.

Sigyn lay curled on her bed underneath one of his cloaks, his helmet resting beside her, both of which were no doubt given to her by Thor upon his return. Loki brushed his knuckles along her cheek, still damp and splotchy from days of crying, before tucking some hair behind her ear.

“My foolish girl,” he whispered, unable to resist placing a kiss to her temple. “It’s alright, it’s over. I’m here.” Still asleep, Sigyn answered with a pained whimper that twisted the knife in his chest, and curled tighter around herself.

Loki pushed his helmet aside so he could lie next to her. After the year they spent apart, their all too brief reunion on Earth, and his time in his cell, he craved the feel of her body against his. Just to hold her close and know that she was alive. The cloak was in the way and he slowly pulled it away so as not to startle her.

He saw the blood first, not nearly enough to be life threatening, but enough to send a jolt through him. Some was fresh, bright red on cream sheets, others were a dry, dark brown. Twelve shallow cuts marred her hands, twelve failed attempts at getting answers from the bowl. “Sigyn.” He scooped her into his arms, trembling and suddenly afraid she would break in his arms. “Darling, please, wake up.” She stirred and he could already hear the sobs in her chest. “I’m here; I’m right here.”

“No.” Her voice was still quiet and hazy from sleep, but that single word knocked the air from his lungs. “You’re not.”

“Yes, I am.” He took one of her hands, not caring about the blood, and held it to his cheek.

She shook her head, fresh tears spilling from half open eyes. “The gods weren’t kind enough to return you to me a second time. The bowl showed me so.”

“It was wrong.”

“You’re not really here. You’re not real. You’re…” Loki swore he heard ‘dead’ come through the cracked, broken sob, and Sigyn pulled her hand from his cheek.

“Sigyn.”

“Stop it. Stop it stop it stop it STOP IT!” She shrieked, hands clutching her ears as though his voice was coming from inside her head.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead and held her as she sobbed. There was a knock at her doors, followed by a couple shouts ad the sound of the door jiggling as whoever was on the other side tried to get through her barricade. He couldn’t stay; he could hear the dresser scrape against the floor. “My foolish girl,” he murmured, kissing one of the cuts on her hand and tasting a faint hint of copper on his lips. “I will return.”

He hid on the balcony just as two guards came running into her room, one of them calling for a healer. Loki sat masked in shadow, unwilling to leave her long after the healers came and patched her up and given her sleeping droughts, until the morning light.

 

* * *

 

His conversation with Thor several days later went about well as he could expect, with a few surprises thrown in for good measure. But as he sat on the throne, long after his brother had left, his victory was bittersweet. He had his throne, Thor’s acknowledgment that he understood how to rule, but his mother was dead and his wife…

Loki visited Sigyn every night, though there was little change. The sleeping droughts the healers kept giving her dulled her senses, and with each passing day became more and more convinced she was going mad, or that it was a dream. He thought of staying away for a night or two to let cope, to recover in peace. But he couldn’t.

Something Thor said on Svartalfheim rattled around in his skull. _Your schemes have consequences that affect her as well_.

This was his fault. He should have gone to her right away and told her—in hindsight, he had enough time—they could have come up with a better plan. Instead, he’d relied on his tricks, using her grief to make it believable. And while it had worked, it had come at a much higher cost than he wanted.

And to make things worse, he didn’t know how to reverse it.

 

* * *

 

There were voices outside her door, soft voices that spoke in hushed, concerned tones. Sigyn knew who they belonged to, and there was a time she might have been angry that Thor and Theoric were talking about her behind a closed door rather than to her face. Now she felt too empty to care.

She hated the sleeping droughts they made her drink. The sunlight already offered little to no warmth, now it made her head ache as well. They said it was supposed to stop her dreams but all they did was blur the details, and in the morning she would wake with the memory of his arms around her, his taste on her lips, and his scent on her pillow. Loki told her once that the mind was the most dangerous and unpredictable weapon they had, and hers was turning against her, using memories to torture her. But she’d rather have the sharp clarity of the full vision than the blunted hazy suggestions.

They took the bowl from her, too, and she had screamed and kicked so much Theoric had to restrain her. Some part of her clung to the illusion that this was another of his tricks. If she just kept pushing like she had a year ago, she would find him again. The healer who bandaged each of her fingers and her hands told her Loki wouldn’t want her to keep doing this to herself, and that she was young and when she was ready she would go on to live a full life.

Sigyn felt a little bad for lashing out at her the way she did later on, but in that moment she would not let anyone pull that bit of hope from her.

That hope was all but gone now. She was a widow.

The doors opened and footsteps approached her, but Sigyn kept staring out her window. She’d started crying again and didn’t want them to see.

“Sigyn,” Thor said, sitting beside her on the window seat.

“Hello, brother.”

“I would ask how you’ve been but…”

“It’s alright; I don’t even think I could tell you how I’ve been.” She forced a smile and another tear slid down her cheek. “The healers think I’m going mad. Maybe they’re right.”

Thor shook his head and took her hand. “You’re grieving.”

“No, I passed grieving a long time ago.” This time she looked at him. “You know I can’t even join him when I die? He died in battle, saving his brother and killing the creature that killed your mother. He died with _honor_ , and the honored dead go to Valhalla.”

“We don’t know where he is,” Thor answered, unshed tears in his eyes. “Do not tell me you long for death already.”

“I don’t.” It was true; death held nothing for her. Not yet at least.

Thor leaned closer and his voice dropped. “Would it be better for you if you weren’t in Asgard?”

“My agony is my mind, Thor. In my memories. Wherever I go, they will follow.”

“But if you were somewhere where you weren’t constantly reminded of Loki and the life you would have had, would it help you heal?”

They all still thought she could be healed. This loss wasn’t like filling a hole in the garden with dirt. It was a chuck of flesh carved out of her, not fatal enough to kill, but enough to leave a scar and feel its absence. “I guess we’ll never know. I’m either a prisoner of the All-Father or of the healers. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I do not care what father says. There is no reason for you to be kept a prisoner anymore. You’re not a threat to anyone.” _Except maybe to yourself_ , Sigyn thought, certain that was what Thor left unsaid. “Do you think you will be better somewhere else?”

“Maybe, it’s hard to say. Why?”

“Because I’m leaving for Midgard for a while. I promised…” He promised Jane he’d return and didn’t want to add insult into injury by telling her. “Jane and Darcy have opened their home to you, if you wish to stay with them. Vanaheim and Nidavellir are also realms you know. Some distance from Asgard might help you find peace.”

She gave a half-hearted laugh and wiped at her tears. “Your mother offered me the same thing the first time Loki…” she still couldn’t say it. “She knew he was alive and set me on a path to find him. I don’t suppose the Fates are kind enough to repeat it this time.”

“I would give anything for that to be the case.”

She wanted to cry again, and looked out the window instead to cover her tears. “When do you leave?”

“In the morning. You don’t need a decision by then. If you decide to leave, have it be when you’re ready. Theoric has promised to help you get to wherever you decide to go.”

She nodded, lip trembling as a fresh wave of emotion came over her. Thor stayed with her a while longer, letting her cry without saying anything about it. Loki was gone and she was lost, without any place to truly call home anymore. Eventually, others would move on with their lives while her grief was a forest she couldn’t see past.

 

* * *

 

_Loki was beside her again that night, his chest pressed against her back and his arm around her middle. “Darling, please. Wake up.” His breath tickled her ear. “Everything will be fine. You’ll see. I’m right here.”_

_Her eyes were too heavy to open, but if she did the dream would be gone. Loki would be gone. Again. Her tongue was heavy, like solid lead. “No”, she wanted to say, “If I open my eyes I lose you.” There was a sob that sounded like it came from her and the feel of lips on her cheek._

Sigyn stayed in bed until well past midday, unable and unwilling to move. Waking up was like experiencing his death over and over again. It was either never sleep again or never wake again. She couldn’t heal when the wound was opened a new every morning.

_There is nothing for me here_. The dreams would follow her no matter where she went, but maybe she could ease the pain if she wasn’t reliving his death on a daily basis.

Her bag was already packed, but she dumped its contents anyway and started over. She’d packed it thinking she’d be meeting with her husband again, not running away as a widow. Clothing she tossed aside; she would get new clothes wherever she settled. Books were a better option, so as not to let her magic skills wither. In one of the books, she slipped the piece of paper Thor had given her, but that did not have Thor’s handwriting. He said it was Darcy’s phone number, in case she ended up on Midgard. Loki’s cloak was a must, as well; she may be running from her grief but she couldn’t bear to leave everything of his behind.

While waiting for Theoric, Sigyn found herself holding Loki’s helmet, her forehead pressed to the forehead piece of it between the horns. It was too large, too awkward, and too conspicuous to take with her. “Goodbye, Loki,” she whispered.

Theoric arrived later in the afternoon. If he was sad about her leaving, he said nothing as he led her out of the palace.

“Won’t they notice you’re gone,” she asked as they reached the edge of the forest.

“I asked for some recovery time after the battle.” They continued in silence for a moment before he asked. “Do you know where you’ll go?”

She shook her head. “No.”

They agreed to part ways at the stream up a head. The cave she needed was deeper into the woods, and Theoric wasn’t likely to find his way back. “I don’t know when, or if, I’ll be back.”

Theoric stopped, staring into the ankle deep water in front of him. “I know.”

He loved her; she’d gathered that much from the kiss he’d placed on her hand when they freed Loki. Unlike Fandral, who was all smooth charisma and would kiss any lady’s hand, Theoric’s kiss had been earnest. “Theoric, I…”

“I know I’ll never be yours, that your heart has always belonged to another. I respected that when I first saw you and I respect it now. But before you leave, possibly forever, I just needed to tell you that you are the most beautiful, compassionate woman I have ever known, and it has been an honor to be by your side, if only as a friend.”

Fresh tears welled in her eyes. He was a fool, just as she was. _My foolish girl…_ If she stayed, they might become more than that, or they might not. He would comfort her, be patient when grief smothered her. He would give her everything she asked for, but there was little she could give him. It was not fair for him to give her his whole heart when hers was buried on Svartalfheim.

“I want you to promise me something, Theoric,” she said, taking her hand in his. “I don’t want you to wait for me. Find yourself a wife who will love you with every ounce of her being. Have a bunch of children who will climb all over you as soon as you come home. Promise me you’ll do that; promise me you’ll go on to live a full, happy life.”

He smiled, and she couldn’t if he was broken hearted or relieved. Perhaps he knew that whatever he felt for was doomed and just needed to hear it. “I promise. But I want you to promise me that you won’t let your grief consume you, either. It would bring me immense joy to know you are at peace.”

She rose up on her tip toes to place a kiss on his cheek. “I promise.” Sigyn let him hug her for a while before stepping back, sniffling. “You should probably get back before someone notices we’re both gone.”

Theoric squeezed her hand once more. “Please take care of yourself, Sigyn.”

“You too, Theoric.”

He stayed by the stream as she crossed, and Sigyn was certain he waited there until she was out of sight.

The cave was deeper in the forest than she remembered, or perhaps it was because she lacked the urgency she had the last time she came here. There was no desperate search for a lost lover, just the slow crawl of time.

Sigyn followed to the back of the cave, where the stone wall glittered with crystals that were not unlike the Bifrost. “Where do I go?” she asked it, not really expecting an answer but hoping it might make the choice for her. Vanaheim was out; there were too many memories of Loki there, too, as well a family that could try to convince her to remarry. Midgard held memories, too, but fewer of them, as well as Jane and Darcy. She would find little support, but she would not be allowed to fall apart. Her father was on Nidavellir; he would surely welcome her home, allow her to mourn, but she feared she would fall into the same cycle as before: grieving until it consumed her.

Nidavellir would be like wrapping a wound in warm silk. Midgard would be like cauterizing it with a red hot iron.

She undid one of the bandages around her fingers and picked at the scab. A dot of fresh blood welled up when she squeezed and she pressed it to the crystal wall. It vibrated under her touch, and a crack split down the middle, slowly widening until there was just enough room to squeeze through. Rocks scraped against her back and arms as she pressed through the suffocating opening, pushing forward even as she felt them closing around her. Then there was a bright flash of light and she could breathe again.

 

* * *

 

Loki came to Sigyn’s rooms just after sundown; he was determined to catch her before the healers could give her more sleeping droughts. Immediately, he could sense there was something off; there was a lack of presence. Her clothing was tossed on the floor, his helmet resting on her bed, and many of her books were gone. Sigyn was nowhere to be found.

“No. No no no no no no,” he murmured, pacing by her bed. His heart hammered in his chest. Had she gone to the healers? Had she gone for a walk? Had she…

_No, do not follow that line of thought_. He would wait; she had to return sometime.

The doors opened, but it wasn’t her voice he heard. Instead it was the healer’s and Loki hid back in the shadows. They were equally as concerned about her absence, but left a small vial on her dresser in case she returned.

Loki grew more and more restless with each passing hour there was no sign of Sigyn. And when it was clear she wasn’t coming back, he finally returned to his own rooms. He would have her guards questioned in the morning, and they would be fortunate if he didn’t have a few of them killed or imprisoned for losing her. His _wife_ was in a fragile emotional state; they were supposed to be doing a better job of guarding her.

_She wouldn’t be in this state if I had told her the truth when I first arrived._

Loki dragged a hand through his hair, pacing back and forth in his room. Guilt gnawed at him though he tried to rationalize the thoughts away. He’d lacked time; he had no way of knowing what her reaction would be…

_She could be dead_.

A few tears slid down his cheeks and he slumped into a chair. No, he couldn’t think that yet. Whatever’s happened to her, he would find her. No matter the cost.

 

* * *

 

Darcy was eternally grateful for London’s numerous pubs. Thor and Jane had started getting a little cuddly again, and while she was happy for them it was a little saccharin to be around. Thankfully, there was always a pub nearby for her to chill at while they were being adorable.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and Darcy guessed it was probably Jane telling her to come back, or Ian wondering where she was.

Instead, it was a number she’d never seen before. Darcy thought about ignoring it and just letting it go to voicemail, but she was kind of bored.

“Hello, you’ve reached Darcy Lewis. If you’re trying to sell me something I am beyond not interested so you should probably hang up because I’m not giving you my credit card number.”

“Darcy.” Sigyn’s voice was brittle, raspy. “I need you to come get me.”

 


	9. Chapter 9

Nine

Darcy found Sigyn outside Stonehenge, where she had attracted a small gathering of onlookers. Though she supposed that was to be expected when someone materializes in a flash of light in the middle of an ancient historical site and tourist attraction. She found her sitting underneath a small tree by the side of the road, with her knees pulled up to her chest, unmoving even when Darcy pulled up and got out of the car.

“Hey.” She crouched in front of her. “You alright?” Dumb question; Sigyn just lost her husband, but it seemed like the right thing to ask at the time.

“The last time that fucking portal brought me here, it dropped me in a forest in the middle of nowhere. This time it…everyone saw me. They saw me land in the middle of some ancient rock formation.”

“Yeah, well, lucky for you, most of us are a little more used to weird things happening now,” she said, extending her hand. “C’mon. Let’s get you out of here.”

Sigyn took her hand and followed to the car in silence. For the two and half hour ride back to London, Sigyn remained just as silent, her forehead pressed to the window as she watched the landscape fly by. Any attempts at conversation were met with grunts, nods, or one word answers.

“I’m really sorry about Loki,” she said, not sure if it was too soon to touch this topic or not.

“Really?” She turned her head just enough to look at her out of the corner of her eye. “After everything that’s happened? After what we did?”

“A year ago, I would have punched the both of you for what you did. Now there isn’t any point to keeping that anger. He was still your husband, and I’m sorry you lost him.”

“I believe you mean that.”

Jane wasn’t kidding when she said she was worried about Sigyn. In the short length of time, Darcy’s own worried levels doubled. “I don’t know if Thor told you this, but you can stay with us as long as you want.”

Sigyn nodded, wrapping her arms around her midsection. Her breathing fell into a steady rhythm, and at a quick glance Darcy noticed that she’d fallen asleep.

 

* * *

 

Thor ended up carrying Sigyn up to the apartment; Darcy didn’t have the heart to wake her once they arrived. He placed her on the air mattress they set up in Darcy’s room while Darcy made them all some tea.

“She looks…” Jane whispered, leaning in close. “How was she on the way over?”

“She slept for most of it. I get why you were worried about her; she’s barely holding it together.”

Thor came back out and plopped onto the couch, cradling his head in his hands. Jane brought him over a mug of tea and he took it with a grateful, tired smile.

They didn’t talk about her until Erik came over. He’d heard reports of unusual things happening at Stonehenge, and his first instinct was to find them.

“What do you mean she’s here?” he asked once Jane and Thor filled him in on their newest arrival. Darcy didn’t think she’d ever seen him this freaked out before he went banana balls.

“I know you have no reason to trust her, or even like her. But she could not stay in Asgard,” Thor said.

“Why not?”

“Because they believed I was a danger to myself.” They all turned to see Sigyn leaning against the door frame. Her eyes were locked on Selvig.

“When S.H.I.E.L.D. finds out you’re here, and it’s only a matter of time before they do, you will be in more danger.”

“Because that is your concern: that I’ll be in danger?” She stepped forward slowly, carefully, never moving her gaze. “Or is it that my presence unnerves you?” Before Erik could answer, Sigyn dropped into a shallow curtsey, her head tipped downwards. “I do not expect your forgiveness, and I know that every scrap of kindness I receive here is a gift. Still, I would apologize for what my husband did to you.” She swallowed. “And for what we did to New York.”

Erik blinked a few times, clearly too stunned to actually respond before Sigyn straightened and walked back to her room.

“Well, it certainly won’t be boring,” Darcy said, sipping her tea.

 

* * *

 

The next day, Darcy dragged Sigyn out of the apartment to get some new clothes. Dragged probably wasn’t the right word, since Sigyn really didn’t put up much of a fight, but damn if drawing some sort of life out of the girl wasn’t impossible. Not that she expected Sigyn to be happy, but she wondered how Sigyn was even able to cross between realms when she looked like she was going to fold over on herself at any moment.

“So, what do you think you’ll do now?” she asked, hoping for some attempt at conversation. After an hour or so of shopping, they were taking a break at a small coffee shop. A few bags were gathered around their feet. Most everything was shades of green and black before Sigyn moved on to purple as well.

“Whatever you and Jane need me to do.”

“What like another assistant?”

“You and Jane were kind enough to take me in. I will at least earn my keep.”

Jeeze, Thor wasn’t kidding when he said Asgard hadn’t been kind to her. “We did that because we’re your friends, but I mean Jane will probably end up picking your brain for any information on Asgardian technology.”

For the first time since arriving, Sigyn gave a small smile.

 

* * *

 

Days later, Erik proved himself right. Two S.H.I.E.L.D. agents showed up at the apartment when it was just her and Darcy. A wise choice on their part; Thor would not have been understanding. Sigyn remained seated on the couch, a mug of tea resting on her lap between her hands. Darcy stood beside the couch, her arms folded across her chest. Sigyn wouldn’t be surprised if there was a taser hidden on her somewhere.

Something about one of them seemed familiar. “Lady Sigyn, I’m agent Harrison. It’s been a while. Last time I saw you, you were masquerading as a research assistant going by the name Victoria Anderson.”

“You were the agent who extracted Jane in New Mexico.”

“Good to see you remember,” he said, and something in his smile felt hollow. “Mind telling us what brings you back to Earth after you and your husband trying to conquer it?”

“Widowhood, I’m afraid.” There was no point in lying; S.H.I.E.L.D. would find out about Loki’s passing sooner or later. “Loki is gone.”

“I see. I would say I’m sorry for your loss but…”

“No sympathy for the devil, I know.”

“Then you’ll understand why I’ll have to bring you in.”

“Oh bullshit!” Darcy snapped. Sigyn expected an outburst from Darcy at some point, but the force of it still surprised her. “She hasn’t done anything! Look at her! Does she look like she’s up to something nefarious right now?”

Sigyn didn’t like the way Harrison looked at her. She wasn’t familiar with enough agents to know if this was something they all did, but it felt he wasn’t just evaluating her threat level. It was the look of appraisal she so often saw in the jewel merchants her father worked with. His partner wouldn’t look at either of them for too long.

She had considered that part of her atonement would be answering to S.H.I.E.L.D., even if it meant temporarily ending up in their custody. Thor spoke highly of them, of the agents he worked with in New Mexico and the one Loki had killed, and Sigyn believed that perhaps she might even be safe with them. But if there were any others like Harrison who looked at her like a jewel whose cut, clarity, color, and weight needed to evaluated for her worth, Sigyn would run as far from S.H.I.E.L.D. as she could.

But she couldn’t run right now. There may be two in here with them, but there would be at least a car or two outside waiting in case she did and she wouldn’t get very far. She sat up straighter, fingers closing tighter around her mug, and glanced at the clock. Thor should be back with Jane soon. “Darcy, why don’t you make our guests some tea?” She said with a courtly smile. “Or some coffee if they’d prefer.” Maybe Darcy would text Jane an urgent message as well. If not, well, she’d entertained far worse company for far longer than an afternoon.

“What? They want to haul you off to S.H.I.E.L.D. prison and do God knows what, and you want offer them a drink?”

“It’s only polite; they are our guests after all. And besides,” She met Harrison’s gaze, and was pleased when he had the sense to look away and sit back. “I’m not going anywhere until my brother returns.”

It was Jane who went on the attack first, yelling that she was tired of S.H.I.E.L.D. invading all parts of her life, but Sigyn knew that it was Thor’s glowering silence and the dark clouds slowly gathering on the horizon that were the real thing to fear here.

“She’s a criminal,” Harrison argued, the fourth time he had made such a claim. “An accomplice to a tyrant who needs to answer for that.”

“She is a widow, and she is family. So have care how you speak.” Thor may be one of the Avengers and the personal friend of a murdered agent, but he would also change the currents of the ocean if he could to help those he loved. “Losing Loki has been punishment enough. It has taken the fight from her.”

Thor continued to explain her motives for her involvement in New York, and the circumstances she faced in Asgard and the events leading to Loki’s death. But as he did, something stirred in her chest.  _It has taken the fight from her_. Some part of her knew that, but hearing from someone else, from him, made her aware of it.

No, the fight had not been taken from her. It had weakened, gone dormant in her grief, but was still there beneath the surface. That she still lived and distrusted this S.H.I.E.L.D. agent was proof of that.

She remained silent as Thor and agent Harrison brokered a deal to keep her out of custody. She would be monitored, from a distance, her whereabouts known by S.H.I.E.L.D. at all times, and if she attempted anything she would be brought in without question. It was more than she expected, and Sigyn figured that they would be watching her more closely than they were letting on. Still, she was free for the moment.

 

* * *

 

Loki withdrew from Sigyn's dreams as he did every night. Wherever she was, she had shielded herself well enough that even her dreams would not reveal her location. As a result, it was like trying to speak to her over the wind. If anything he said made it to her, she likely wouldn't hear, or believe, it.

 A part of him was angry with her. If she hadn't fled, he wouldn't have to take time away from keeping his cover as the All-Father to search for her. Worrying about her broke his concentration and was a dangerous distraction, but every time he thought about giving up--because if she had gone through all this trouble to hide why not just let her be-- he would start feeling jittery, his mind racing with potential scenarios.

 So every night he tried, no matter how unsuccessful his efforts. She was  _his,_ and eventually she would come home.

  _Damn it, you foolish girl, where are you?_

 

* * *

 

Sigyn's head ached as it did every morning. Thor had figured out how the coffee machine worked, and he would rise early and make coffee for all of them every day. The smell always roused her before anyone else and they sat at the little table each morning with their coffee while they waited.

"Did you not sleep well, again?" he asked, setting the coffee down in front of her.

She shook her head. "I keep dreaming of him, and each time it's like something has been clawing at the inside of my head." It was better than what she experienced on Asgard; mercifully, these dreams at least lacked the mocking verisimilitude of his presence. 

"Grief affects us all differently. I cannot pass a garden without expecting to find Mother there. I'm sure these dreams will pass in time.”

Sigyn tore open the little sugar packet and poured half of it in; she found that amount cut the bitterness just enough without making it too sweet. "Do you believe the dead try to reach out to the living?" She didn't need to look up to know that he was looking at her with concern. She may not be hysterical anymore, but she knew that there was still concern over her melancholy, that a bit of madness still lingered in her. But these dreams haunted her, poked and prodded at the void left in her with such dexterity that she questioned whether it was truly in her head.

"Not like this, Sigyn."

"But I can hear him, feel him, calling to me."

"What does he say?"

She paused, almost deciding not to tell him. "To come home," she whispered.

Thor looked at her with such sadness it broke her heart a little more, and he took her hand. "My brother would not want you to join him in death. That much I am certain. You and he shared a bond I can't even begin to understand, but I know he would not want that for you."

"I know." She gave his hand a squeeze. "Then why does it feel like more than just a dream?"

"Because your heart wants it to be more. The loss is still too fresh and you don't want that connection to be lost. In time the pain will subside."

Sigyn managed a smile. Thor meant well, and she was grateful for his words of kindness, even if the thought of no longer seeing Loki in her dreams was more terrifying and painful than the recurring dreams.

 

* * *

 

Darcy was good about keeping her out of the apartment. Every day she picked some new sightseeing or shopping excursion that kept her moving and her mind from lingering on painful memories. If Darcy noticed that S.H.I.E.L.D. agents would trail them at a difference, she made no mention of it. Perhaps the Midgardians were so accustomed to having their every move watched they didn't notice it, but Sigyn was acutely aware of the presence that followed her like a shadow.

As grateful as she was for Darcy making sure she was distracted, it was also apparent that there was another who desired her attention. Her intern, Ian, was always asking her to a movie, or dinner, or to get coffee, and each time she either denied him or insisted on Sigyn coming with them. Ian was perfectly cordial and pleasant with her, but she sensed that her presence was extraneous. 

"You should go with him," she finally said one afternoon while lounging around the apartment watching T.V. Ian had texted Darcy for the third time that week.

"You really want to see this movie? Alright, I'll tell him."

"No, I mean  _you_ should go with him. I'll figure something else out."

"What? No it's fine."

"Do you not like him?"

"I do. It's just...friends before boys, ya know?"

"I'm perfectly capable of being left alone. Haven't even cried in days." She omitted that she  _wanted_ to cry, but she simply didn't have the energy any more. "Besides, you deserve some happiness, too."

"Just seems a little cruel. Me going off on a date after you just lost your husband."

"I will still be mourning Loki long after you've passed on; what's cruel is you not taking advantage of what little time you have because you were babysitting me." Sigyn set her cup down on the table by the couch. "Besides, you want to go with him; I can tell, so just go out and have a good time."

Darcy grinned a little. "You're sure you'll be alright?"

"Yes, now text him back and tell you'll see him tonight. I'll even help you get ready."

By the time Sigyn was done with Darcy, she looked as stunning as any Asgardian. One of the benefits of growing up with as many sisters as she did and a mother like Freya, in addition to her friendship with Amora, was that the beauty tricks she picked up through osmosis alone. Ian seemed to appreciate her efforts; as soon as he saw Darcy he could barely speak properly.

"Have fun," she said, practically hurrying them out the door. "And don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"And what exactly would that be?"

"I was married to Loki; it's a pretty short list."

The first hour alone was fine. Sigyn reorganized a few things around the apartment, made herself a cup of tea, and tried to relax. The melancholy didn't set it right away, but instead slowly crept up on her. Thor would soon be returning to Asgard for a while, so he and Jane were on a romantic getaway, and now Darcy and Ian were out. This was what she knew would happen; everyone would move on as they should while she watched from the sides. Still, she would not let her loneliness and longing drown her. If she was going to survive this loss, she would have to reforge her strength.

And she couldn't do that sitting on the couch.

Sigyn dressed herself as inconspicuously as possible, a black hoodie, green shirt, jeans, and boots comfortable enough to walk in, before grabbing her bag and heading out into the city. There, she was just one more face, as unidentifiable as any other. She wandered the city for what felt like hours, until she was far from anything that looked or felt familiar.

She was lost, she realized, like the magpie had told her the last time she was on Earth.  _He is lost and so are you_. Sigyn nearly expected the bird to show up again and remind her, but the only birds she saw were gathered by a nearby fountain and didn't speak. Yes, she was lost, drifting through her existence. But she would find a current again; she had to or else she would drown. Jane had graciously offered her a position as her additional assistant, and while Sigyn was grateful for the kindness, she knew that it could not be a permanent life for her.

It was a while later, when dusk was beginning to settle, that she began to feel hungry, truly hungry. She found a pub nearby that, hopefully, wouldn't exhaust too much of the money from Jane and Darcy. The waiter brought her water and left her with a menu.

"Is this seat taken?" She didn't have to look up from her menu to know who it was. Harrison must have been following her. He didn't wait for her to answer, either; he slid into the seat across from her.

"Usually when someone picks the booth in the very back of the pub, they don't want company," she answered, still hiding her face with the menu. 

"Which is the most obvious tactic." He paused. "If you're having trouble deciding, I haven't had a bad order of fish and chips since I've been in this city."

When the waiter returned, she ordered a chicken and bacon pasty along with a side of chips and an ale, which was more to calm her nerves. "Is it the fish and chips that brought you here?" she asked, trying to avoid his gaze now that she no longer had a menu to hide behind.

"Mostly the company." She didn't like his smile. "Can I ask what brings you out this far, lady Sigyn?"

"Dinner. Which you are interrupting."

He ignored her comment. "By yourself? Where are the rest of your companions?"

"They have dates. They've done such a good job monitoring me I gave them the night off."

"I remember you being far more pleasant back at the apartment. A picture of hospitality."

That's because she'd had Thor and all his protection behind her. "Surely even the women of Midgard dislike having their private meals intruded upon." The waiter brought her ale and she gulped down several sips. He made no mention of Harrison's presence, probably because he had been instructed not to.

"My apologies. This meeting will be as short or as long as you make it. Think of it as us checking in on you. You know, to see how you're adjusting."

"Adjusting." She was over a thousand years old; did he really think she was stupid enough to believe S.H.I.E.L.D. actually cared for her wellbeing. "You mean you're spying on me."

"Again, if that is how you wish to see it." He paused, looking at her in the same manner he had back at the apartment. "You don't think highly of S.H.I.E.L.D. do you?"

"Not particularly."

"Because we defeated your husband?"

"No, the Avengers did that. I'm not fond of you because of your constant intrusions. I understood you would watch me from a distance. I did not expect to see you again."

"If you're cooperative you won't hear from me again, unless you want to. I have a few more questions for you, and I didn't want to ask in front of the rest of your entourage."

"If it will make this conversation end any quicker then ask them and be done with it." 

The waiter brought her food, and Harrison at least had the decency to let her eat a few bites before he started. "Does the name Johann Schmidt sound familiar?" She shook her head. "He might have gone by the name Red Skull. Named so due to the fact that his face looked like, well, a red skull."

Sigyn curled her lip. "Surely I would remember such a creature. Why do you ask?"

"He was the founder of Hydra, an organization bent on global control, not unlike what your husband tried to accomplish in New York. He was also a great fan of your kind and was the one unearthed the Tessaract in Norway. So you see, plenty of connections between you, Loki, and him."

"If Loki had any dealings with Hydra or this Johann Schmidt, he didn't tell me." She thought of the group of mercenaries he had when she first came to Earth, but they hadn't seemed like this Hydra Harrison spoke of.

"And have  _you_ been approached by anyone? You would be a powerful asset to them: an Asgardian with no love for S.H.I.E.L.D."

"No, the only ones who've approached me have been you and your people. How would they even know I'm here? My arrival has been kept quiet."

"Hydra has ways of knowing these things."

Sigyn took another long drink of her ale. What had she stumbled into by returning? "Lovely. More people who won't leave me alone. I take it I'm to tell you if they contact me?"

"It would be helpful, yes. You...would not side with them, even after everything that's happened?"

"I did not come to this world to start another war, Harrison."

If that was the answer he wanted, he didn't show it. There was no relief, and his smile felt carefully crafted rather than genuine. "That is good to hear, lady Sigyn. I'll leave you to your dinner. Thank you for your time."

He stood, but she stopped him before he passed by her. "If Hydra is such a threat, why wouldn't you tell me in front of Thor? He is the protector of Midgard, surely he should be informed."

That got some reaction from him; his eyes widened slightly and his face, as Darcy would have put it, was an 'oh shit' face. "He already knows of them, and I needed honest answers not him trying to protect you."

_They called my husband the god of lies; what makes you think I would tell you the truth._ She had been of course; This Hydra was unknown to her. But she held her tongue. She wanted to be left alone and antagonizing a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent would make sure that she had a permanent shadow. She waited for him to leave before exhaling and relaxing into the seat. The waiter brought her another ale with an apologetic smile. Sigyn decided to quickly finish her meal and return to the apartment. She'd had enough socializing and excitement for one evening.

 

* * *

 

Sigyn chose not to mention her conversation with Thor before he left. His departure was stressful enough on everyone and she didn't want to add to it. Besides, if Harrison was right and Thor already knew about Hydra then there was no point divulging that conversation.

Jane threw herself into her work for a while, which left Sigyn and Darcy to help her until whenever Jane called it quits for the day. As sleep still brought her dreams that left her heart aching and her head throbbing, after the others went to bend she would bring out her spell books and practice. Simple charms and spells were first. Within a week she had placed a charm on everyone's cellphones and keys (so they would not be lost or stolen), warding spells all over the apartment to keep out any unwanted company, and several other spells that were purely decorative such as the great helix made of sparkling light that changed colors as it turned and which Darcy and Jane named Cosmic D.N.A. 

The more complicated spells she performed after everyone had gone to bed, when she was guaranteed no interruptions. Darcy had taken her to several thrift shops, and Sigyn had returned with a few bags of bracelets and pendants. They lacked the purity of dwarven mined metal, and Sigyn worried how they would hold any of the spells she wove into them, but it had been over a year since she had done so and she could already tell her skills had waned a bit.

One night she had taken a break from a particularly troublesome bracelet that was making her eyes cross to stand out on the balcony. The breeze was cool and carried the scent of an oncoming storm. Sigyn was starting to feel comfortable here. Perhaps not quite home but she had longer periods of happiness that dulled the longing she still felt.

The quiet was broken by the sound of the door slamming shut, followed by Darcy's hushed curses. Sigyn just smiled and shook her head. "Aren't you coming back a little late?" she called.

After a long stretch of silence, Darcy poked her head through the patio door. "Oh hey the mad scientist is awake. And you're not my mother so don't even start."

"By my people's standards you are still practically an infant."

"Well here on Earth I'm a grown ass woman capable of making her own decisions and mistakes," she said as she came through the door holding two bottles of ale and handed her one. Before Darcy could pull out the bottle opener she kept on her keys, Sigyn merely flicked bottle cap off. "That's so not even fair." 

Sigyn took the bottle from her and did the same thing before handing it back. "Might as well use my Asgardian strength for something."

"You know, you could become a super hero, too. Protecting the people you once tried to enslave."

"The people of Earth already have a protector, several actually. They don't need me."

"I think you'd be a pretty good one, all things considered. I'm not saying you'd do the whole saving the world thing. More like 'making sure people get home from the bar safely' kind of thing." Her eyes lit up as though she had the most brilliant idea ever. "You could be Bar Girl."

"How much have you had to drink, Darcy?"

"Not that much I don't think."

She hiccupped and Sigyn took the bottle from her. "I think you've had enough and should probably go to bed."

"Fine, moooom." Darcy wobbled a bit and Sigyn placed an arm around her waist to steady her. "See? Bar Girl helping those who've had too much to drink back to safety!"

Sigyn rolled her eyes, but still couldn't help but smile at Darcy's optimism. 

 

* * *

 

It was a relatively quiet afternoon. Sigyn was tinkering with one of the bracelets she was working on the night before, Jane was working and Darcy was on her computer, ear buds in and oblivious to the world. 

"Oh my god," she muttered, pulling her ear buds out. "You guys need to see this."

"What is it, Darcy?" Sigyn asked. This spell didn't want to work with the metal in the bracelet and she didn't feel like breaking her concentration for a cat video, though they were adorable.

"S.H.I.E.L.D.'s gone." Sigyn nearly dropped her bracelet.

"What do you mean, gone?" Jane asked.

"I mean they no longer exist. They just dumped all their secrets, on everything, into cyberspace. According to this website they were infiltrated by a group called Hydra, and they were going to use S.H.I.E.L.D.'s new Helicarriers to...shit...to eliminate anyone they saw as a current or future threat."

Hydra. Was her conversation with Harrison a coincidence then? She pulled up chair next to Darcy. "If they released all of their information, then there should be a list of agents and who they were affiliated with. I need to see a list of Hydra agents."

"Why?" Jane asked.

"Because the other night when you were all on dates I went to dinner and was cornered by Harrison. He asked if I had heard of, or been approached by, someone from Hydra."

"What?!" Darcy gasped, turning from her screen to face her. "Why didn't you tell us?"

"You think Harrison is Hydra?" Jane had just as much of a reason to be concerned as she did. He'd had the most contact with her research, and if any of it had been used to help Hydra... "Darcy just find out."

It took about a half an hour for Darcy to find what she was looking for, but Sigyn knew she found it when she muttered, "Shit. Says here he was. Last report said..." She looked up from her screen. "He was assigned to watch you."

"He asked if I hated S.H.I.E.L.D., probably trying to figure out where I'd stand." Had this been successful, Sigyn had no doubt that they would have come for her. A powerful asset he had said, appraising her as though she were some precious gem. "S.H.I.E.L.D. has one Asgardian; it would make sense that Hydra has one of their own."

Jane's phone went off and she answered. "Erik? Are you alright? Yeah, we've heard. Sigyn's here." A few more things were said before she hung up. "Erik said he'd be here in a few hours."

"I'm going to see what else they released," Darcy said.

Sigyn felt that she should be more worried, though the fear would probably set in later. Without a word to Darcy or Jane, she grabbed several of the pendants she and Darcy had picked up from their last thrift store visit from her room and set to weaving protection spells into them. They would most likely need them in the next few days, and this would keep her mind from dwelling on what this meant for her.

By the time Erik arrived, she had already woven a protection ward into one pendant, a simple piece of flat circular metal with a dark stone set in the middle, and was working on the second one. Darcy was still at her computer, taking notes on most of what she read. The news was on constantly, muffled background noise about the massive information leak. Erik pulled Jane into the kitchen area, and Sigyn could pick up on bits of their muffled conversation.  _"How much do we think they know?" "Are we safe here?"_ Sigyn kept her focus on the pendant and the spell she was working into it.

"Guys, you might want to see this." Darcy hadn't said much of anything since all of this started, and she sounded especially worried. Sigyn placed the pendant down and joined Erik and Jane by the computer. "Both S.H.I.E.L.D. and Hydra had extensive research on Loki and Sigyn. Most of it is from New York. Stark apparently had a whole system in place to trick Loki into talking using Sigyn's voice. And...This hasn't gone viral yet...they know she's on Earth. All the orders for Harrison to watch her...all his findings...it's all out there."

"You said yet." Sigyn didn't know what 'viral' meant, but she had a felt the sinking feeling in her gut.

"It's only a matter of time. The US government already wants to talk to the Black Widow and it's been less than 24 hours. There's a few articles and blog posts about the 'rogue Asgardian' but compared to everything else that's going on they aren't making waves. But eventually..."

"They will turn their attention to me."

"The wife of the man who tried to conquer the world living in secret amongst its people," Erik said. "When that news breaks, who knows the kind of pandemonium that will follow?"

She would be taken into custody, interrogated, and if she was kept alive it would only be because the world governments might not want to anger Thor.

"We have to get her into hiding," Jane said, already about to start packing her bags.

Sigyn met Erik's gaze. They rarely saw eye to eye on everything, and he vocally opposed her presence, but in this she felt they had come to the same conclusion. "Jane. That won't be necessary."

"What? Don't tell me you're going to let them find you. I know you wanted to make up for everything you guys did but..."

"Jane, I can't stay in this realm."

"What? That's a little drastic, don't you think? I mean, you know a lot of places in Scandinavia. You could like...hide in the mountains of Norway or the flagship IKEA store in Sweden and be safe, right?" Darcy asked.

"If or when this goes 'viral' as you put it, I doubt there will be many places for me to hide. Besides, my continued presence here will most likely put you all in danger, or at the very least get you in trouble with your governments or damage Jane's research credibility. I can't stay on Midgard." She always knew this would be a temporary living situation, but not  _this_  temporary, and she found herself wishing she could have stayed a little longer.

However, there wasn't the immediate, pressing sense of danger she felt when she first fled Midgard. The media and everyone seemed to be focused on any of the other stories, so Darcy figured that there was at least a day and half to two days to pack her things and figure out where she was going to go.

Sigyn finished weaving protection charms into several pendants and gave one to Jane, Darcy, and Erik. It was the least she could do after everything they had done for her, and with the uncertainty of everything to come they could use the added protection.

Two days after S.H.I.E.L.D. fell, Jane and Darcy drove Sigyn back to Stonehenge at sunrise. The ride was quiet, save for the occasional sniffle from Darcy. 

"Do you know where you'll go?" Jane asked.

Surprisingly, since all of this had happened, Sigyn had been able to remain calm and plan her next move. And there was only one other realm she would consider right now. "I'm going to stay with my father on Nidavellir."

"And you'll be safe there?"

"Safer than here, and I'll receive a warmer welcome there than on Vanaheim."

The sky was a dusty blue and the sun was still low in the sky when they arrived at Stonehenge. They were alone except for the guard that told them to leave. Sigyn murmured a sleep spell and the guard curled up on the grass at their feet. 

"This is goodbye then." Sigyn said, even though it pained her to say so.

"Will you come back?" Darcy crossed her arms over her chest to combat the early morning chill.

"I don't know. I'll try to when some of this calms down." 

Their goodbyes were tearful, albeit brief (the guard wouldn't stay asleep forever). They watched as Sigyn picked up her bag, walked up to one of the giant, stone slabs, and cut her palm as usual. Before she pressed her hand to the stone, she glanced back at them. Jane had her arm around

Darcy's shoulders and both were wiping away tears. Before her resolve could weaken, Sigyn pressed her palm to the stone. The cool hard surface gave way to a gaping, pitch black hole large enough for her to walk through.

_Don't look back._ She thought as she stepped through the makeshift doorway. Three steps in, the doorway closed behind her and the ground dropped off. Sigyn tumbled down down down into the darkness.

She fell for what felt like ages, silent and blind, until she landed on a rocky slope and rolled until she hit the ground. Her body was scraped and she struggled to push herself to her feet. It was still dark around her, so she muttered a quick illumination spell and a small orb of golden light appeared in her hand. She was in a cave.

"Great. Couldn't have landed in a field or forest, huh."

She wandered until she heard the sound of rushing water, and followed that to a small stream that lead her towards the cave's exit. Stepping out into the light, Sigyn could see the familiar mountain formations reaching towards the sky. Her father's hall couldn't be far.

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

Ten

It had been far too long since Sigyn had been to Niavellir. The roads were unfamiliar, and more than once she had to ask for directions to her father's hall. When she finally did arrive night had fallen, her whole body ached, and all she wanted at this point was a warm bath, a warm meal, and a warm bed.

Iwaldi's hall burrowed into the side of one of the several mountains his clan owned. Great stone pillars carved into the mountain braced the entrance way, and the light coming from inside reminded her of a hearth fire. The hammers and chisels had stopped for the night and been replaced by the sounds of drinking and singing. Everything radiated warmth, and for the first time since Loki died Sigyn felt like she was coming home.

Two guards stopped her before she could enter, their halbreds crossed so she could not pass. One demanded who she was. Her dwarvish was out of practice and felt heavy on her tongue, but she managed to explain who she was, and that she wished to see her father.

One of them recognized her name, he was older and might know her father better than his partner, and quickly ushered her inside and had her wait in the main hall while he told her father. The halls were just as large as she remembered when she was a girl. A network of walkways supported by beautifully carved arches loomed above her head, and she could hear the echo of the voices above. The sound of children laughing reminded her of when her and her sisters would chase each other up and down those same walkways until they ran into their father. His stern face would last just long enough for them to believe they were in trouble before melting away as he laughed and challenged them to a race himself.

"Sigyn."

There was more grey in his hair and beard now, but Iwaldi still looked at her the way he did when she was a young girl and something had upset her. He took both of her hands as he did then, and Sigyn dropped to her knees in both exhaustion and relief. His arms wrapped around her and she buried her face in his shoulder, breathing in the scent of pipe tobacco and the forge and  _home_ before breaking down into quiet sobs. 

* * *

Sigyn woke the next morning in her old room, and was presented with a small feast of oatmeal, toast, eggs, and bacon. Another servant came in shortly thereafter carrying a bundle of clothes---dwarven clothes, not the 'Midgardian rags' she'd arrived in---before leaving her in peace. For a long time after she finished her breakfast, she did nothing but lay in bed and listened to the familiar heartbeat of the smith's hammer beneath the chatter and singing and life in her father's hall.

It was another hour before she could bring herself to move from her the warmth of her bed and dress herself. Unlike her Midgardian clothes, which were thin and clung to her, or the loose flowing fabric of Asgardian attire, dwarven clothes were thick and close without being form fitting.

"It is good to see you in Dwarven clothes, my dear," Iwaldi said as she joined him in his study. Mornings were for business, for balancing accounts and arranging shipments. Afternoons were for the forge and evenings for the hall. "They suit you."

"It's good to be home."

"All good homecomings require a tale or two. You still have to tell me what brings you home after all this time."

She had tried to tell him through her tears, but he had insisted she get some rest. "It's a long story."

"We have time," he said kindly before asking that a servant to bring them tea.

So she told him everything: Loki's true heritage, his first 'death' and her search for him, his attack on Midgard and their quick wedding, their punishment in Asgard and the events leading up to his death and those that followed. He had raged when he heard what Loki had put them through, but it was how Odin had treated her that sent her father into a dark mood. By the time she was done, the tea was gone, tears were shed and she felt as though she had purged a lifetime of pain from her when it had only been a few years.

Iwaldi took both her hands in his. "Had I known what he would put you through..."

"It would not have stopped me," she said with a soft smile. "Mother always said I took after you. I'm stubborn and my heart would not be moved from him."

He sighed. "Aye, I suppose you get that from both of us. Speaking of her, where has your mother and her family been in all of this?"

"Since his death I have not seen much of any of them. Last I heard, Mother was on Vanaheim."

Her Dwarven may need work, but she recognized the string of swear words he let loose and they made her cheeks blush. She'd definitely spent to long in Asgard if that was the case. "I trusted you all to her and she dares abandon you to the All-Father's mercy."

"I made a choice, Father, one that had consequences."

"No not give me that Asgardian nobility nonsense. You are still kin, and they should not have abandoned you." He called a servant to bring them more tea, and perhaps some spirits to lift their mood. "And this trickster husband of yours. Was he loyal to you? Did he make you happy at least?"

"Through the best and worst of it," she said quietly, a small smile on her face as she looked down at her cup. "I would not trade one moment I spent with him."

"Then I suppose I can forgive him for dying and leaving you a widow so young," he grumbled. "Though he could've had the decency to live long enough for me to threaten him."

"Papa!"

"What? It's customary for a dwarf to threaten his son-in-law with a cracked skull should he hurt his daughter."

Sigyn smiled softly and shook her head. If it would've been anything like the verbal lashing he gave Loki when they first announced their relationship, her poor husband might have had a hammer thrown at him for good measure. "And....everything else?" she added, her voice soft and hesitant. "What he tried to do and what I helped him to do?" 

"I do not like what you did, nor is it what I hoped for you, but I am not surprised by it. Loki may not have been one from birth but he was raised an Asgardian, and Asgardians are conquerors. They forget that sometimes. " He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "What's done is carved in stone; do not let the past trouble you while you're here. You are my daughter, and you will always be welcome in my home and in my heart." 

* * *

Days passed, and Iwaldi allowed Sigyn the time to properly mourn her husband as their tradition dictates. He may have had mixed feelings on Loki, but he was still kin through marriage, and deserved a proper ceremony. There was a small, private service and the dirges were sung, before Sigyn observed a period of private mourning for three days (word of her arrival had spread, and this period was meant to let her grieve without other members of dwarven society who might be curious about her and her circumstances from pestering her).

Iwaldi watched as his daughter occupied her time either at their private forge or the small workroom she had set up for herself. Sigyn had always been a talented girl and her time in Asgard, and with Loki, had made her stronger. Still, he worried for her. The servants said she spoke in her sleep, whimpering the name of her dead husband, and there had been more than one morning where she emerged from her chambers with eyes red and puffy despite her smile. When Sigyn had told him of her relationship with Loki, he had honored their union despite imagining all the ways the trickster might break his daughter's heart. Leaving her a widow had not been one of them.

She was at her best when she was working, and Iwaldi would encourage whatever kept her happy.

That morning he gathered up a bunch of old jewelery and armor he had made. They were old experiments: testing metals of various purities, designs he had later scrapped or changed, the beginnings of orders that were later cancelled. They weren't needed and would've been melted down anyway.

Iwaldi found Sigyn in her workroom hunched over one of the scrolls she had brought with her along with a bracelet she had found on Midgard, so focused that she didn't notice he'd come in until he cleared his throat. She looked up, a few small strands of hair plastered to her forehead, and smiled. Iwaldi's heart warmed a little at that.

"Is everything alright?"

"Of course. I've brought some things for you." He gestured towards the hallway, and two servants brought in the chest of pieces and set it next to her work table. She knelt before it and opened the lid. "Your talents are wasted on that junk you brought back from Midgard. Even some of their best metal is inferior compared to anything from our realm." 

Sigyn turned several of the pieces over in her hands, and Iwaldi caught a glimpse of the metal cuff around her wrist that secured the piece of Loki's cape she had tied there. It was plain looking and tarnished, and Iwaldi had been offended that Loki had given his daughter such a pitiful piece of jewelry until she explained that it was something she picked up on Midgard that wouldn't attract too much attention. He understood her reasons, yet she deserved better now that she wasn't in hiding.

"You shouldn't be so hard on Midgard, Papa. The people are really quite lovely for the most part."

_Is that why you and Loki sought to subjugate them?_  He wondered. "Aye, I'm sure. That doesn't mean that their smithing isn't subpar." She picked up a vambrance and he could already see her deciding what spells she might work into it. "These are yours to do with as you wish."

Sigyn smiled and threw her arms around his shoulders like she did when she was younger. And he prayed to the gods of his forefathers that she would find her peace here. 

* * *

Sigyn had been but a girl when her mother took her and her sisters first to Vanaheim and then to Asgard, but her father had already taught her some of the basics of smithing. The rhythm of the hammer against metal was steady and comforting, taking her back to a time when her only concerns were returning home for supper in time and not getting caught stealing from the kitchens.

She found herself back at the forge now, when she grew restless and her grief gave way to the desire to  _hit something._  She wasn't Sif or Thor, who could take out their rage in the sparring ring or in battle, and she'd still been too numb and guarded on Midgard to do anything more than get by and survive. But she did have magic and smithing. Now that the funeral rites had been observed and some measure of closure achieved, the anger set in. At Odin, at her family, at Thor, at Loki for leaving her a widow. 

Thor told Harrison that Loki's death had taken the fight from her, and he had been partially right at the time. The warmth from the forge had rekindled something in her. She would grieve for Loki for centuries to come, that much was certain, but she  _would not_  be weakened by it any more.

Hours passed and one shoulder piece was done before Sigyn took a moment to examine her work. There had been many failed attempts before she finished a piece she was pleased with. It was no where near her father's masterful work, but it was sturdy enough for her to weave spells into. She wiped the sweat off her brow with the back of her hand. Her anger had ebbed with each crash of the hammer against metal, each piece she scrapped because it was flawed, until all she was left with was a finished pauldron and a momentary feeling of peace. 

Slowly, she would purge her anger and her grief and reforge her strength along with some new armor. 

* * *

Loki slumped into one of the large, plush chairs in his private chambers. Listening to the complaints and concerns of all the subjects was exhausting. Add on top of that the strain of keeping up his illusion and keeping someone from suspecting that he was not the All-Father, and by day's end Loki could barely keep his eyes open. Being king was more than he bargained for.

Regardless, he always made sure to take a few hours each night to walk amongst the people, either at court, in the barracks, in the taverns, anywhere there was a gathering. If he really wanted to know what was going on in his new kingdom, he'd have to hear the things they were too fearful, too polite, or too smart not to say to his face.

Tonight it was to be the tavern where the delegates from several different realms would be meeting. They'd all been too cordial, save for the dwarves of Nidavellir who were their usual gruff selves. Loki slipped into the form of a young wench, with soft curves and a warm smile that would surely put the men at ease enough to speak freely.

It seemed the drinking had been well under way by the time he strolled into the tavern and started talking with the delegates from Alfheim. They had been the most reserved, especially the female diplomat who now seemed far more interested in her company. Unfortunately, he learned precious little from them. Seemed their cool demeanor hid no other secrets other than a love for strong wine. He drifted away from them and circled the room, flitting from table to table for any gossip or news. His efforts might as well be in vain; even this deep into their drink conversation never turned to anything that might interest him.

"My lady!" A voice called from behind just as Loki felt someone stumble into him. He turned to find a drunken dwarf had grabbed onto his arm. "Lady Sigyn, I didn't know you were on Asgard."

Loki froze, the razor sharp insult dissolved on his tongue. "What did you call me?" This dwarf must have realized this wasn't who he was thinking of and started apologizing profusely. "No no, it's alright," He said in his sweetest voice, with a giggle and a warm grin, his fingers gently brushing along the dwarf's arm. "Tell me, who is this lady you're looking for?"

"M'lord's daughter. I shouldn't say too much. Poor thing's fresh widowed and doesn't get out much."

Now he remembered. This was the dwarf who had come in place of Iwaldi, his father-in-law, who was said to be tied up with some family trouble.  "And you thought I was her?"

"Aye, you have her hair." Loki looked at a lock of hair between his fingers. He'd made the color almost identical to Sigyn's without thinking, and if got a look in a mirror he'd probably find a few other similarities. Someone called for him and the dwarf whose name he couldn't remember pulled away and rejoined his friends.

Loki hurried out of the tavern and back towards the palace. If Sigyn was with Iwaldi on Nidavellir, then she was safe. He knew the old dwarf as many things, and he was fiercely protective of his girls. His first instinct was to take one of his hidden paths to Nidavellir and bring her back tonight. He wanted her back and she belonged with him. But if the 'All-Father' was unavailable for a few days followed by Sigyn's return...well, someone somewhere would put the pieces together.

As much as he wanted to bring her back himself, he would need to find someone else to do that.

And Loki had a few ideas on who that could be.

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for how long it took to get this chapter up. Life and school got a little hectic for a few months. Thank you all for being patient and enjoy! :)

Chapter Eleven

Iwaldi sat behind his desk, a sturdy thing carved from marble, and read the letter in his hands over and over again to be sure that the words were real and not tricks from a long night of drink and merriment. But the words remained the same, and they made his head ache and his stomach roll. Sigyn would not be happy about this either.

"I see you're awake," she said as she came through the archway, carrying a tray with two mugs of strong tea on it. "They said you managed to drink several of the visiting lords under the table; I thought we wouldn't see you until nearly dinner time." Her gaze fell to the letter in his hand, and then to his face; she would see the worry there, no point in hiding it. "What is it? Has something happened?"

He handed her the letter so she could read for herself. "Your uncle will be paying us a visit. He doesn't say why." She read it in silence before setting it back on his desk. Her shoulders were tense and her gaze was fixed on the letter.

"Do you think he knows I'm here?"

"I haven't seen or spoken to Freyr in years. I can't imagine this is a social call."  Sigyn chewed on her lower lip, her hand balled into a fist.

"Do I run?" She asked, her voice small.

"No!" The thought of his daughter jumping between worlds again, drifting aimlessly without close friends or family, sparked a fresh wave of fury in him. "You are my daughter, and only you will determine if or when you leave. Still, it will be difficult to keep your presence here a secret. Someone will talk."

"Plus, I'm the tallest one here." He was relieved for her smile; the last thing he wanted was for her to be more upset.

"Perhaps, I'm wrong and this is just a social visit. Maybe he just wants to make sure you're alright. You did vanish from Asgard." He doubted this was the case, but he regretted making her worry about it. She saw through it, though. She wasn't a fool and knew what a lie sounded like.

"I'm going to the forge for a while."

* * *

Sigyn waited until she was at the forge before unleashing any of the emotions she kept closely hidden. Slamming her tools on the table, muttering and cursing to herself, she was sure she was a sight to anyone else in the forge with her. All she had wanted was some time to herself with people who would allow her to recover. Now her uncle was coming, which meant he, or her family, must want something. 

She tied her hair back and pulled out a hammer and the piece she was currently working on. Whatever it was, she had no intention of giving it to them.

* * *

 

To Iwaldi's surprise, Freyr brought with him only a small retinue of attendants. They may not have had the amount of pomp the Asgardians did, but it was not to be said that those of Vanaheim weren't capable of extravagance. This humble showing was out of character and made him ill at ease.

He greeted Freyr in his main hall, surrounded by only a few others. He wanted to keep this whole situation as controlled as possible. Freyr had changed little over the years. His golden hair was a little paler, but still plaited in a warrior's fashion, and a fresh scar ran down his cheek. He wore his usual charismatic smile when he knelt before him.

"My lord," he greeted, inclining his head a little for extra flourish. "Thank you for accepting my visit."

Iwaldi arched his eyebrow. "I don't think you've ever called me 'my lord'. Not even when your sister and I were...together. What have I done to earn such formality this time?"

"Merely offering your the respect as fitting your station."

He wanted something, someone, and this was all a poor attempt at making a good impression. "You’re a terrible arse kisser and full of shit, Freyr."

He laughed, the sound reverberating off the stone walls, and rose to his feet. "Alas, my charms are lost on you, you old dwarf." This time Iwaldi chuckled; it'd been a long time since they'd traded barbs with each other. "There is an important matter I wish to discuss with you, but I was hoping we could talk in private."

Ah yes, there it was. Freyr had come with a purpose and all the smiles and joking would not keep him from it. Iwaldi lead him to his private study where he had mulled ale brought for them. He was not the only one trying to make a decent impression. The drink was Freyr's favorite, and Iwaldi thought if he could keep him in a good mood, this whole business might go over more smoothly. "Before we talk business, tell me: how is Freya?"

"Just as untamable as ever. She spends a great deal of time on Vanaheim now, trying to restore some kind of order. Still carrying a flame for my sister?"

When Freyr had learned of his relationship with Freya, he'd laughed and clapped him on the shoulder instead of the usual confused look and ever since then Iwaldi had liked the man. "She is the mother of my children; that flame will never extinguish."

"Didn't know you were such a poet." Freyr took a long drink of his ale, and Iwaldi did not like the sudden shift in the air. "Unfortunately, it's one of your children that has brought me here." Iwaldi stared into the fireplace on the other side of the room. If he didn't acknowledge what Freyr said he would take laugh again and say it was all some joke. "I've been sent to bring Sigyn back to Asgard."

No matter how many times Iwaldi had played that request over and over in his head, hearing it still took the air from his lungs. "No."

"I'm afraid I don't have much of a choice. I was ordered to bring her home."

" _Home?_ " Iwaldi bristled. "This is her home! And I am not sending her back so that the All-Father can torture her some more!"

"Is that what she told you?" He was smiling, but Iwaldi couldn't read the mood behind it. "My niece seems to have a flair for the dramatic. She was given a remarkable amount of freedom for what she did. And she  _did_  have a role, Iwaldi. Or did she keep that from you?"

"I know what she did. And I also know she lived in fear that Odin would change his mind and imprison her or worse. I know of the scorn she faced. And I know that you offered her no comfort."

Freyr at least had the decency to look ashamed, whether it was genuine or not Iwaldi couldn't tell. "Politics in Asgard..."

"Politics?" He sputtered. "She is your kin, and you ignored her suffering for  _politics?_  Is that why when you all thought Loki dead the first time you told her grief was shameful? That she should start looking for a proper husband?"

"That was not my idea but you cannot tell me you were pleased she married Loki. Especially not after all the shit he pulled here."

"If we were to forever be judged for the sins of our youth, Freyr, you would not be able to show your face at court. Loki may not have been my first choice for her, but he made my girl happy, and in his own way I believe he loved her too. So while it is my hope that one day she finds happiness, with a new husband or no, I will not disrespect their marriage. And if I remember correctly, it was Freya who was angry about the two of them. You just laughed so hard I thought you were going to piss yourself."

This time Freyr chuckled, remembering as he was the day Sigyn confirmed she and Loki were together, and that one day she wanted to marry him. "I thought she was just trying to spite her mother. I knew Loki was trouble, but I didn't think him capable of attacking Jotunheim and Midgard. Nor did I think he'd marry her in the middle of it all. It was a bit of a shock to all of us when we realized how close they were."

"We'll you can imagine it was  _a bit of a shock_ to me when I heard how she'd been treated, so no I will not send her back there. He may be ruler of all nine realms but I am still Lord of this mountain and I will not be bullied into sending my own daughter back to a hostile environment. Loki is  _dead,_ Freyr. There is nothing for her there. What use is she to him?"

"I don't know why the All-Father has summoned her, or what his purpose is. But, I can promise you I would not be here if I thought she would be in any danger. Plus, your daughter is a talented sorcerer in her own right, trained not only by the late queen but by Loki as well. In Asgard, she might actually be able to do something with her talents. To make a new name for herself."

"For herself or for your family?" Freya's family was ambitious, and while he didn't doubt that they would not willingly lead her to harm, that didn't mean they wouldn't push her into some sort of political machination she didn't want to be a part of.

"For herself. Tell me, what has she been doing here this whole time?"

"Grieving. Healing. Things she apparently couldn't do in peace anywhere else but  _home_."

"And what happens when all her wounds are healed and she's done grieving? Do you really believe she'll be content to spend the rest of her life holed up under a mountain? She may be your daughter but she is also my sister's, and she will grow restless."

"Do not pretend to be concerned with her welfare now when you have been suspiciously absent all this time. If or when Sigyn decides to leave Nidavellir, it will be on her terms when she is ready."

Freyr sighed and leaned his head back against the wall he was against, throwing one of his hands up. “Will you let me at least talk to her? Let me plead my case to her; she might be more reasonable."

He had a feeling Freyr would ask this. "You already have."

"What you're going to tell her half of what I said and..." He stopped, and Iwaldi couldn't help but smirk as Sigyn stepped out of the shadows. Freyr looked like he was going to shit himself.

"Hello, uncle." She was dressed in the colors of mourning. "I trust my father wasn't giving you too much trouble," she said with an easy smile and a hand on his shoulder.

"No more so than usual." He got up and embraced her. "It's good to see you. You look well, all things considered."

"My good health can mainly be attributed to the care I've received here." Before he could counter her, Sigyn took him by the arm and said, "Enough talk for now, uncle. There's to be a feast tonight in your honor, as our guest. I'm sure you'll want to rest and get cleaned up beforehand."

Freyr glanced over at him, seeing right through what Sigyn was doing. "A bath does sound lovely. Still had to ride here despite how close Heimdall brought us. Let's see which one of us can drink the other under the table."

"You may be of the Vanir but I am a dwarf, with the iron stomach of one too."

Sigyn handed him off to one of the servants to take him to his room and shut the door. "Do you think he's telling the truth?"

"Most likely. Freyr is many things, but deceptive is not one of them."

Sigyn chewed on her thumbnail. "Let me talk to him at the feast tonight."

"I do not think he will tell you anything different than what he said just now."

She grinned. "You underestimate my persuasiveness, father."

No, he never doubted that. Between Asgard and Loki, he was sure she just as much a silver tongue as her husband. But Iwaldi still feared Freyr would mention something that would make her change her mind.

* * *

 

Sigyn's heart was pounding when she returned to her rooms, but she waited until the door was closed before she let go of her composure. Her breath came in shallow gulps and she dragged a hand through her hair. She didn't want to go back to Asgard; she  _couldn't_ go back and be reminded of him at every turn, to have to take sleeping potions to dull her dreams so she wouldn't see him, to serve at the will of either the All-Father or her family.

She thought of running again. She and her father had discussed this in case this was indeed what Freyr came for. It wouldn't take much for her to throw together a few items and slip out through one of the many tunnels under this mountain. But she had spent at least the last year or so running from everything, from her past, from her memories. She'd grown tired of it ages ago. All she wanted to do was vanish beneath the mountain and be forgotten for a while.

"Why can't they all just leave me alone?"

"Because life isn't that simple," a voice answered from the other side of the room. Sigyn jumped and reached for the nearest object to hurl at them, which in this case ended up being a book she kept on a nearby table. "Whoa, relax Sigyn. It's only me." The figure made themselves visible and Sigyn dropped the book and her jaw.

"Amora?!"

"Surprise."

"What...what are you doing here?" The last time she’d seen Amora was years ago, when she left to study on Alfheim.

"When I heard about everything that happened I had to come see you." Sigyn stayed pressed against the door, trying to slow the rapid beating of her heart, and Amora stepped forward. Her bright golden hair was braided, which it almost never was, and her clothes were simple and modest. "Sigyn, I am so sorry about Loki." It was one of the few consolations she knew wasn't an empty platitude; Loki had been her friend, too. She couldn't answer without her voice cracking so she only nodded. Amora gently pulled her away from the door and placed her hands on her arms. "How've you been holding up? The healers said you'd been...unwell."

"Unwell?" She couldn't help the dry laugh that bubbled up from her throat. "Is that what they're calling grief stricken madness now?"

"Siggy." Amora pulled her forward into a tight embrace. "No one knew where you were or what had happened to you."

"Don't tell me you were worried." Amora really wasn't the type to show concern like this. Her face was rarely without a smirk, and a sharp retort was always on her tongue. She was like Loki in a lot of ways and that was comforting. But this new earnestness was almost unsettling, if only that Sigyn rarely saw this side of her.

"A little. I was brought back from Alfheim and find more chaos than even I'm used to. The Bifrost had to be repaired, Loki had died twice, and you had gone missing twice, the two of you had tried to take over Midgard, plus at some point you two got  _married_. I'm starting to think you two need me to keep you out of trouble."

There it was; there was the Amora she remembered. She'd even overlook the fact that she referred to Loki as though he was still alive and blame it on habit. "Please, if you weren't traipsing around Alfheim doing gods know what you would have been right there with us."

"Maybe. Midgard, though? There has to be a more interesting place you two could have ruled."

"What, like Asgard? In case you hadn't noticed the All-Father is still alive." Amora nodded and looked down. "Unless something's changed."

"No, nothing. Just thinking the wrong man died that day."

Amora may have meant well, but that poked and prodded at the scar Loki's death left behind. She had enough to deal with tonight without that wound being reopened. "Please tell me you're coming to the feast tonight."

"And miss a Dwarven feast? Of course I'm going."

* * *

 

Amora waited until she was certain she was alone in her room and would not be disturbed before lying down on the bed, her hands folded neatly on her stomach. Astral projection was a tricky thing; she needed complete concentration. Three breaths in, three breaths out, each one detaching herself a little more, before she took one final deep breath and opened her eyes.

She was in a forest, golden light filtering through the trees and making patterns on the ground that seemed to be constantly shifting. "You wanted me to check in," she called out.

Moments later she heard the crunch of leaves as he approached. A trick of her mind; where they were the leaves weren't real. "How is she?" Loki asked.

"She's holding it together. Your death still haunts her, though."

"That's why you need to bring her back."

"I don't know if that’s possible. She's stubborn and angry and hurting. You know as well as I do that we'd have better luck picking up the whole damn mountain and bringing it back to Asgard."

"Don't think that hasn't crossed my mind."

"Are you sure this is such a good idea? Maybe she's not ready to come back to Asgard."

"She belongs with me, Amora. I need her here."

"Then let me tell her the truth."

He shook his head. "The walls may be made of stone but they have sharp ears and loose tongues. Word will spread and then we are all in danger."

"As long as she thinks you're dead, there's no reason for her to come back to Asgard."

"Then find a reason!” He snapped, “Convince her. That's why I sent you." The forest went dark and Amora’s eyes snapped open. She was gasping for breath and trembling. Sigyn was stubborn, and for a moment Amora feared what would happen if she didn’t break through that stubbornness.

* * *

 

Once her father learned Amora was there as well, he insisted Sigyn spend time with her instead of trying to talk to Freyr.  _The man's far more agreeable when he drinks,_  he'd said.  _Let him drink a few pints of our ale and I'll have him agreeing with us. You, on the other hand, need to spend some more time among the living._  

She and Amora were seated at the main table with Iwaldi, Freyr and a few others, and every so often Sigyn would lean over and identify any of her father's retainers Amora was unfamiliar with. Amora was as charming as ever, but as the feast went on Sigyn noticed that she fidgeted more and more. She toyed with the choker clasped around her neck, or tugged at her sleeves. And she kept glancing up at the arched ceiling of the hall, so high up even the light didn't fully reach it. She'd seen that look before; some people found being underneath a mountain disconcerting if they weren't used to it. So she took Amora by the arm and started leading her towards the balcony just past the main entrance that overlooked the river outside. 

Amora breathed a deep sigh of relief once they were outside. It was dark, but torches that capped each end of the balcony gave them a little light.

"I didn't remember you disliking enclosed spaces," she said kindly. Amora had always been fearless, always ready to jump headlong into some new adventure. A Dwarven hall beneath the mountain would never have bothered her.

"I just spent three years on Alfheim; nothing's enclosed there. It always felt like I was surrounded by nothing but wind and sky."

Sigyn had only been to Alfheim once, but she did remember the open air buildings and feeling like the sky could swallow you at any moment. "Nidavellir has ways of testing those who visit her. I could ask that you be given a room with a balcony; there are a few my father keeps for guests who don't feel well underground."

"Thanks, Siggy." The conversation shifted into a lull. Three years had passed since she'd last seen Amora and neither of them were the same as they had been. There was a gulf between them now. "Why are you still wearing black?"

That question not only broke the tension between them, but seemed to snap something in the very air as well. There was no warm, comforting haze, and she was acutely aware of the chill in the breeze. "What?"

"One of the Lords I spoke to earlier didn't understand why you still wore the color of mourning. Your grief period ended a while ago."

Sigyn looked down at her dress. It was a rich black with gold trim, and sleeves long enough to cover the cuff still around her wrist that she didn't have the heart to take off. "A few weeks is not enough time to mourn." There was a suspicious feeling that twisted inside her. Yes, she and Amora had been good friends but she had still shown up with her uncle. “You’re here to convince me to come back to Asgard, aren’t you?”

"Siggy..."

"I can't just forget about him and move on. And I certainly can't do it on Asgard where everything reminds me of him. I'm tired, Amora. I'm tired of running; I'm tired of trying to keep my head up all the time. And every time I find a little bit of peace, someone or something comes along and pulls it away from me. No. I'm done."

"As long as you're avoiding Asgard you'll always be running."

Sigyn narrowed her eyes. Amora was too calm, too willing to follow this one order. "There. Is nothing. There. For me. Nothing. My husband is dead, my brother would rather spend time on Midgard, most of my family doesn't stay on Asgard for very long, the All-Father isn't very fond of me, and the Queen is dead."

"Maybe that's reason enough to come back. You worked the closest with the Queen; who better to carry on her legacy?"

"That's not my job, Amora," Sigyn snarled even as the very idea pierced her heart and tears welled in her eyes. “Surely, there are others who are better suited to the task.”

"Perhaps, but how many of us can say they were as close to the queen as you? At the very least it’d be a better use of your time and talents." Sigyn snorted and looked out to the river. Yet another person who felt the need to tell her what she should be doing. "Alright, fine. You want to know why you should come back. Because you know as well as I do that the only way you’ll ever find peace is to stop hiding.”

“I’m not hiding.”

“You are, literally, hiding under a rock! Do you really think that what you and Loki did won’t find you here, like it did on Midgard? Or that it won’t follow you to the next world to run to? What good is this doing for you?”

“It’s better than Asgard.”

“Is it? The dreams will not stop if you stay here, or return to Midgard or any other world. His death will follow you no matter where you go.”

“My grief nearly drove me mad, Amora.” Sigyn whispered, her voice cracking. “Why should I go back there?”

She felt Amora’s hand on her arm. “Because the woman who followed Loki across the realms and married him in the middle of a battle would not run from this, no matter how much she’s hurting.”

"And what can I expect  _if_ I go back? Imprisonment? The constant presence of a guard?"

"You'd be surprised. Asgard is in such a state right now that you might not even be bothered."

Sigyn’s head was swimming, and it felt like her strength had been sapped. “I need some time alone to think about all of this.” She expected a fight; Amora was one to not let an argument go until she’d won. But to her surprise, she just sighed and started heading back towards the hall. One problem still remained, one question still unanswered. “No one can seem to answer why the All-Father wants me back so badly. Don’t suppose he might have told you the reason.”

For a moment there was no answer, just long stretches of silence, and Sigyn thought Amora hadn’t heard her, or ignored her. “The queen is dead,” she said. “Thor has his duty to Midgard. Maybe he’s realized he doesn’t have that much family left. ”

* * *

For the next several days, Sigyn rarely left the forge and she refused most visitors. She would have no other influences, not her father, not Amora, and not Freyr. This was her choice and she would make it alone.

The armor pieces had been done for two days but she still had not come to a conclusion she was happy with, so she spent her time polishing and detailing ever piece until it shone like the royal palace of Asgard.

Amora had, essentially, called her a coward. And once the prickliness of that accusation was gone, Sigyn faced the uncomfortable thought that maybe she was right. How often had she claimed she was tired of running, only to turn around and run to the next world? And how could she continue to, when she did not come from a lineage that would have encouraged this. Her mother was a Valkyrie and there wasn't a battle she could be kept from if she could help it. Her father was a great dwarf lord and warrior in his own right who was willing to stand up to the All-Father himself over her. Thor and her uncle were great warriors, and Frigga and Loki had stood against their enemies at the cost of their lives. 

Thor’s words to agent Harrison reverberated in her again.  _Losing Loki is punishment enough. It has taken the fight from her._  It rang like a discordant note then, and now it was almost deafening within these stone halls. She had vowed not to let Loki’s death weaken her, not while there was still strength in her. Grief and madness were her enemies, and she would have to face them.

She adjusted the bit of Loki's cape still tied around her wrist and secured with a metal cuff. Amora spoke of carrying on a legacy. Her husband had died with honor; all his mischief and chaos redeemed with that one final act. What was hers? That she tracked him across the realms to be reunited, stood by him through the worst only to wither after his death? No she would have a legacy of her own.

* * *

Her father took the news about as well as she expected. He was worried she had been pressured but once she explained her reasons he understood. Well, as much as he was going to anyway. On her last day, Sigyn remained alone in her rooms. She'd already wandered the great stone halls the night before as a way to say goodbye. Her bags were packed and waiting on the bed, and her father quietly slipped into her room to tell her the others were waiting.

"I want you to promise me something,” she said, taking one of her hands in his. “Promise to keep me informed as to how you're treated. If they treat you poorly, I want to know about it."

"I will, father. And I will visit as often as I can. I may be returning to Asgard but I will not be kept a prisoner there.”

He smiled and reached into his coat and pulled out a small, velvet wrapped bundle. "There's something I want to give you away from the others." She unwrapped the bundle to reveal a golden cuff bracelet set with green and amber stones that seemed to sparkle when they caught the light. Beautiful, intricate knot work wound around the surface. Dwarven patterns often told a story; this one spoke of love and war and eventual triumph. "You deserve something better to wear with that piece of fabric, something that represented you and Loki."

Fresh tears sprang to her eyes as her numb resolve faltered, and she embraced her father in a tight hug. “Thank you.”

"If you're going to return to Asgard as Loki's widow, you should have something worthy of the title."

* * *

Iwaldi met with Freyr privately before Sigyn was ready to leave. He had a few words for him. Freyr looked far too pleased with all of this and Iwaldi wanted to punch him for it.

"Well, things worked out better than I thought they would. I was half expecting a war over all of this,” he said, looking too pleased with himself for Iwaldi’s liking.

"It's not too late."

"Come on, Iwaldi. Sigyn's made her choice."

"I am aware of that. But know this, Freyr Njordson: If I find out that she has been mistreated in anyway, and do not doubt that I will know, I will command every forge in this realm to go cold. Neither Asgard nor Vanaheim will receive any of our weapons, our armor, our metal works. Not so much as a nail will be given to either realm. And if it is a significant injustice, I will command that when the forges are relit, their purpose will be for war."

"A little dramatic, don't you think."

"I am turning one of my children over to you against my better judgment, and only because she believes that this is the right thing for her. If she has been deceived, I will consider it a slight against my house and the response will be as such."

Freyr gave more promises that she would be treated well, and Amora remained silent. A wise move on her part. She may be a friend of Sigyn’s, but he wondered what she could have said to make her change her mind. Either way, he did not trust the Enchantress entirely, despite his daughter’s reassurances.

When Sigyn appeared in the doorway, their discussion stopped. The few armor pieces she made were done in bronze, and the green dress she wore left one arm bare to show off the golden cuff with the bit of green fabric underneath.

“She looks like she’s going to war,” Freyr remarked.

“That’s one way to describe it,” he rumbled.

They had already decided that the public farewells would be quick, having saved the heartfelt goodbyes for earlier that morning. Iwaldi watched as Sigyn followed Freyr, Amora, and the handful of other servants out of the great entrance hall. Sigyn gave one final look back at him and the mountain before Freyr yelled for Heimdall. There was a great flash of rainbow light and then they were gone.

* * *

It had been so long since Sigyn had traveled by Bifrost she almost forgot how smooth a transition it was. The secret paths were suffocating at times, pushing her through only to drop her in some unknown location. This was almost like flying, and landing comfortably in the observatory. She could see the Bifrost and just beyond it the great golden palace looming on the horizon.

“Lady Sigyn,” Heimdall greeted her. “Welcome back to Asgard.”

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...it's been a while since I updated this. This chapter went through many, many rewrites until I was pleased with it. Thank you all for being patient, and I hope you enjoy this chapter.

 

Chapter Twelve

 

Chilled are whipped around the observatory until it finally stilled. Sigyn’s heart pounded in her ears, and save for Heimdall’s greeting, there was an uncomfortable silence that followed. Even those that brought her seemed to shift awkwardly, like they didn’t know what to say to her. Freyr ultimately gave her a hug, saying something about needing to meet with the other warriors, before leaving followed by the small group of guards that came with him. Amora left to attend to some unknown business, though she promised to visit her later that evening. This left her alone with Volstagg, who was waiting for her at the end of the bridge.

"Lady Sigyn," he greeted with a gentle smile and short bow. "I'm pleased to see you look well.”

Of the Warriors Three, Sigyn had always had a certain fondness for Volstagg. He had sturdy warmth that reminded her of her father, and she was glad that if anyone was going to escort her, it was him. There was no pity in his smile, no trace of smugness or patronization, just a genuine kindness that made this homecoming a little less unbearable. "Thank you, Volstagg. How's your family?"

There were no other guards in her escort as he led her towards the palace. In fact, no one paid them much attention. A few looks and the odd whisper here or there, but nothing more. "They're well. The children still ask about you from time to time.”

"Really?"

"Indeed. They usually want to hear more stories about the times you and Loki came on our adventures, or they ask when you’re coming back so you can show you one of your famous tricks. They'll be happy to see you."

That anyone in Asgard aside from Thor had missed her broke her heart a little more. "I'll be sure to pay them a visit soon, then."

Volstagg continued to fill her in with tales about what had happened during her absence, which as it turned out wasn't all that much. Asgard had been calm since the Dark Elf attack and Thor's departure. Quiet and still, it was as though nothing much had changed in her absence. She went to turn towards her rooms but Volstagg kept going.

"Your new rooms are this way, Lady Sigyn."

"New rooms?" Was she to be confined to the dungeons, then? Or had she been stripped of her titles and her accommodations downsized? "What happened to my old ones?"

"The All-Father thought you might like somewhere new. A fresh start."

Sigyn was expecting little more than a cell, small and clean but simply furnished, merely a place to sleep and nothing more. These, however, were larger and grander than her last ones had been, and located in the royal wing. The balcony overlooked the gardens and the rest of Asgard beyond.

"What have I done to deserve such a homecoming?"

"I cannot say what is in the All-Father's mind, but he did say that you were still of the royal family, and that this is where you belonged."

This all felt...strange. At her last encounter with the All-Father she was certain he would have thrown her in the dungeons had Thor not been there. Unless he had a sudden change of heart, which she didn't think the old man capable of, he should not be giving her new rooms and referring to her as family. "I shall have to thank the All-Father for his generosity. When do I meet with him?" She assumed she would be marched into the throne room and be given a stern warning about her place and second chances.

"He's quite busy at the moment and feels such introductions would be better suited for a later time. However, if there is anything you need, you need only ask." _Too busy?_ He had her practically dragged out of Nidavellir and now he was too busy to even explain why?

Sigyn hid her frustration behind a smile, and Volstagg left her alone after that. With an abundance of free time for the time being, she made herself familiar with new chambers. All her previous belongings had been moved, arranged in a similar fashion to her old rooms, right down to her books being clustered by type and arranged alphabetically. Whoever had done this had a particular eye for detail and had gone to great pains for accuracy.

Sigyn removed each piece of armor and set it on a nearby table. There was no point in wearing it if her meeting with the All-Father was delayed indefinitely. That irked her; she had dressed for battle, the least he could do was meet her on the field.

Once in the clothes she'd brought with her from Nidavellir, Sigyn sat cross-legged on her bed. The familiarity was quickly losing its warmth. She may be in a different room, but the almost slavish devotion to detail reminded her of her grief, of the days and nights she spent weeping over him. But if the memory of her grief was painful, the memory of a time when he was alive was almost unbearable.

_Perhaps this is the All-Father's punishment for me_ , she thought. He meant to taunt her with the life she might have had with Loki: the gorgeous rooms in the royal wing, every detail preserved so as to easily conjure ghosts. Her gilded cage was meant for slow torture, to inch her towards the edge of madness without ever pushing her off. 

She would not give him that. She would not jump off that cliff.

The furniture was easy to move around for the most part. The bed would be the most difficult, even with the aid of magic, so she left it for last and focused on the tables, dressers, and shelves. Nothing would remain as it had been. 

"I see the furniture doesn't meet your approval." 

She'd been so focused on moving this particular dresser she didn't hear Theoric come in. "There is a belief among some of the Midgardians about energy and the placement of furniture in a room. Actually...I'm glad you're here. You can help me move the bed."

If Theoric thought her request strange, he said nothing of it. When every piece of furniture had a new place, Sigyn grinned at their handiwork. It was such a minor thing, but it was her first act of defiance. She may be back in Asgard, but she would not let it torture her, not here at least.

Still, for all the care and attention to detail that went into constructing this room, there were a few things missing. "When Thor brought word of Loki's death, he brought me Loki's cape and his helmet. I took the cape with me but left the other behind. Where is it?"

"I don't know. I could ask one of the servants who helped with the room if that will help."

"And my bowl?"

This time he could not look at her. "It's locked away in the Vault. For your safety."

She remembered the thing being useless, giving blank images and no answers. But dangerous? "My safety? It was a harmless tool, albeit probably a broken one for all the good it did me."

Theoric still wouldn't meet her gaze. "Sigyn, you had sliced your hands open a dozen times in one day trying to use it. I know you hoped it would show him to you again, you screamed that we were taking away your only hope of finding him, but you were not yourself."

“Of course I wasn’t, I was newly widowed.” Fragments were starting to settle into place. She remembered how she'd kicked and clawed at Theoric when he held her back, she remembered a guard picking up the bowl as if it was a dirty dish to be taken to the kitchens, not a powerful magical tool given to her by her husband, and she remembered the healer bandaging her hands while offering what kind words she could. She had come to terms with Loki’s death, but some small part of her hoped that perhaps it would work like it had the last time. "Is there any way for me to get it back?"

"I can get you Loki's helmet, but not this. The All-Father has commanded it be locked away."

"Then it will be one more topic for me to bring up when I meet with him, whenever that may be." She sank back onto the bed and rubbed her temples. Her brief flash of anger gave way to exhaustion; she'd only been back in Asgard for an afternoon and she already felt drained.

The bed shifted as Theoric sat beside her. "Sigyn, I know this isn't how you wanted to return."

"I just don't understand why I'm needed here. Asgard seems fine; my presence isn't needed."

"Regardless, it is welcome."

Sigyn wondered if he still had feelings for her, if that was the reason for the warmth in his smile. She hoped it wasn't; there was too much going on for her to deal with that. Theoric was a good man, and she was nowhere near ready for a good man. Still, she gave a little smile and patted his arm. "Tell me about everything that happened while I was gone."

After Theoric had told her about the continuing efforts to rebuild Asgard, she insisted that he go spend time with his family, as this was his night off. As Sigyn sat alone in her new surroundings, a new restlessness set in. Even with the rearranged furniture, everything that reminded her of the past was almost suffocating. She grabbed a cloak and decided to wander for a while to clear her head.

Her wandering lead her to the Bifrost and then down towards the Observatory. Heimdall was turned away from her, looking out towards the stars.

"Do you tire of Asgard already?" he asked without needing to turn around.

"I doubt I would be allowed to leave even if I had." She answered, stepping closer until she was beside him almost at the edge. "No I just...needed some air." 

"You have all of Asgard, and yet you come to the edge of the universe for air."

This was still the only place she could count as Loki’s grave, as she had after the Bifrost had been destroyed. No body had been brought back, and there were no plans for a memorial of any kind. This was all she had left, a tomb at the edge of the universe illuminated by the candles of a thousand stars. "I miss him, Heimdall."

The gatekeeper said nothing in response which she was grateful for. No doubt in the coming weeks, months, and years she would hear endless variations of 'you'll find another husband, a better one who isn't a mad frost giant'. To not hear such things at his gravesite was a mercy. “Don’t suppose you know why I’m back.”

“You agreed to return. Whatever your reason for doing so, there is your answer.”

She had something to prove, either to herself or to everyone else or both: that she was not frail, and that Loki’s death had not destroyed her. In time, she might have returned on her own accord. But it didn’t explain why Odin wanted her return. “Shall I take your cryptic answer as short hand for ‘I don’t know’?”

“The King has been quiet lately, reclusive. He’s much changed since the Queen’s death.”

“As are we all.” Heimdall’s answer did not ease her growing discomfort. Sigyn gazed down into the abyss where Loki once fell and felt a fresh wave of loneliness. "Forgive me for disturbing you."

She turned and started back for Asgard. She's hoped to get some closure at this place but instead felt the ache in her chest grow sharper. "Lady Sigyn," he called just before she reached the observatory's entrance. "One does not need to be all seeing to know his death still grieves you. And I am sorry for your loss."

Sigyn spent the long walk back to Asgard nearly in tears, hastily wiping at them as they rolled down her cheek. Going to the Bifrost was a mistake; she'd spent enough time crying and this trip had opened wounds shed thought long since healed.

It was late in the evening when she reached the palace. A few people were still milling about in the hallways, mostly guards and servants but others as well.  Her room was as she had left it, save for the golden horned helmet on her bed. Theoric must have gotten it for her, and she made a note to thank him later. It looked like it had been polished recently, all scuffs and dirt, evidence of battle, having been buffed away. She held it in her hands, tracing the curve of one of the horns with her fingertips. “Damn you for leaving me alone in this world,” she whispered.

"Sigyn?" She turned to see Amora standing in her doorway. "Are you alright?”

"Do I look alright?"

“No. You look exhausted.” Amora gave her back a gentle rub. “Which makes me feel worse about what I’m about to say. The All-Father wishes to speak with you."

Sigyn felt like a rock had been dropped in her stomach. "When?"

"In an hour, at the last bell before sundown. I'm to bring you to him."

When she first arrived, she was angry that their meeting had been delayed. Now she was emotionally and physically exhausted and vulnerable. "Then in an hour I will have answers." She may be dreading this encounter, but she had more than enough ire at being pulled back to Asgard to compensate.  _Rage will be my strength today._

 

* * *

 

One hour later, Sigyn stood before the doors to the throne room with Amora at her side. She wore one of her finer dresses the color of sage. The scrap of green fabric peaked out from under the glittering bracelet her father made, and Loki's cloak hung about her shoulders. It was a bold choice, and perhaps not a wise one, but she wanted him with her tonight.

"You will be fine, I'm sure of it," Amora said, glancing at where she was picking at the fabric under the bracelet.

"You seem to know the All-Father's mind. Tell me, then, what will happen when I go through those doors?"

"I do not know his mind, only the whispers of others."

"You're a terrible liar, Amora. You’ve been far too willing and eager to bring me here.”

"This is not a betrayal, Sigyn. Have I ever led you into danger?"

"I seem to recall nearly losing a hand in that ruin on Alfheim..."

"That doesn't count; we had no idea how that artifact would react. My point is that I have never led you willingly into a trap." The last bell rang, echoing through the hall, and Sigyn's heart pounding right along with it. Amora gave her one final, quick hug and whispered "But I have led you to a few surprises." The doors creaked open was she was ushered through them, alone.

The room was nearly empty, save for a handful of guards and a lone figure sitting on the throne. The doors gave a final thud behind her as they closed; there was no going back now. Everything was silent, even the sound of her heels hitting the tiled floor was muffled. The All-Father remained seated as she approached, even as she bowed before the throne she could feel his eyes on her.

"Welcome home, Lady Sigyn."

Home. The word nearly made her shudder. "It's good to be home," she lied. He was looking at her strangely; the coldness she remembered in his eyes was gone, the anger with which he looked at her in their last encounter was replaced with warmth. It reminded her too much of how Loki used to look at her, and felt perversely wrong coming from him.

"Your presence has been missed."

"Evidently, given how quickly I was summoned."

"I apologize if you were treated roughly. I ordered that you were to be treated with the upmost care and respect." He smiled and rose from the throne. "Walk with me." Another command, yet it was gently given. "There is much to discuss, and it is better these matters to be discussed in private."

Sigyn had little choice, and did as she was told. The All-Father led her through the less traveled hallways of the royal wing. They were empty, not even guards populated the halls. But there was magic here, new magic that she did not remember being there. It made the hairs on her arms and back of her neck stand on end, and the air felt thick as though she were passing through a fog. The worst of it was right before the doors to the All-Father's private audience chambers. The air smelled metallic, and a heat radiated off the doors that reminded her of father's forge. Powerful warding spells designed not only to protect but to conceal. Sigyn's mind went to the worst places, followed the darkest paths. Was this to be a private execution? Or would he strip her magic from her, numb her powers and sever her last connection to Loki? 

The doors opened, and passing through them felt like walking through a blast of heat that let her flush. Once inside though, the air felt normal, lighter, and until the doors closed behind them again she could breathe a little easier.

He approached her slowly, and with less confidence he'd possessed in the throne room. "May I?" he asked, gesturing to the bracelet on her wrist. She nearly said no, certain he would yank both it and the fabric off, but held her wrist out anyway. He examined the fabric first, running his thumb over it. "You still wear it?"

"Loki was my husband. I will always wear it."

"Until you find a new husband."

"There will be no new husband," she snapped. So that's why she was brought back. Her family and the All-Father must have worked together to find her a new, politically convenient husband. She yanked her hand away. "You said there was much to discuss."

"There is."

"Then with all due respect, I’ve had a long and emotional day. Just tell me why you summoned me." Everyone had refused to give her a straight answer whenever she asked, and she was done with it.

Odin lowered his head in what was a jarring act of respect and stepped back. He glimmered around the edges, a golden light flecked with green. It started at his hand when he placed Gungnir against the wall and ate away up his arm and chest, and finally up his face. "Because I need you here."

Loki. 

Her stomach twisted into painful knots, and if Sigyn had eaten anything that day she might have thrown it up. Tempting her like this was cruel, even for him. "Was it your plan to torture me?" she asked through teeth clenched so hard she was certain they would break. Her fists clenched at her sides and her whole body trembled as she fought to remain still. "Because if you're going to kill me, just be quick about it. But don't taunt me with his image and call it kindness. Don't," she hissed, recoiling as he tried to touch her.  _Don't look at me like that, the way he used to._  "This is a trick, a test of some kind."

"There are no tricks here, no illusions. Just me trying to convince my wife that she is no longer a widow. That she never was."

"No." She wanted to believe that Fate had been kind enough to return him to her a second time, but this still felt like false hope. One misstep and she would fall back into her all-consuming grief, and she'd come too far for that. "This has to be a trick."

"Let me try to convince you. Please." He held out his hand and something glittered and flashed a bit of gold in the dim light. It was the necklace she wore on Earth, the one Loki had meant to be her betrothal gift. She assumed it had been lost during her return. "Do you remember why I picked this for you?" he asked, his voice gentle and almost soothing. "The gem is from that cave on Vanaheim, the one we explored when we were younger and got lost looking for that stupid mushroom. The only reason we didn't get in trouble was because we agreed to blame the storm for our delay back to the palace."

They had told no one about that day; no doubt there would have been uproar if the youngest prince of Asgard and a daughter of Freya had been injured or worse while lost in a cave. Especially since the mushroom they were looking for was for a potion deemed too dangerous to make by their tutors. If Heimdall had known, he never said anything because they would have heard about it. "How do you know that?"

"Before you found the stream that led us back to the entrance, I saw this green stone sticking out of the cave wall, begging to be plucked like ripe fruit. I knew I wanted to marry you long before that day, but when I saw that stone it just seemed perfect." He gently touched her cheek and this time she didn't feel the urge to pull away in disgust. "So I chiseled some of it out of the rock and when we returned I had it set in that pendant." He clasped the chain around her neck, his touch lingering on her skin before softly touching her hair. "I had a whole speech planned that seems irrelevant in light of what we’ve gone through in the past few years. But I would have called that cave home as long as you were with me, and without you all of this has felt hollow.”

Sigyn's heart raced and her head swam, and the ground felt like it would give out from under her. They had told no one of their incident in the cave, and he knew details no one else could. All the peculiar behavior, the gentleness with which he looked at her, the absolute insistence that she return, it all made sense now. Every fiber of her being, every nerve was practically screaming in recognition.   _He's alive…He’s alive…He’s alive._ "Loki...?"

"Do you believe me now?"

She shoved him away, her fists balled and tears streaming down her face. "You've been alive all this time? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I tried to. Every night I went to you, but whatever the healers gave you dulled your senses. You thought I was a dream, some figment brought on by their medicine."

"Every night?" Hazy memories returned and cleared like the parting of early morning fog, memories of his arms around her, of his lips on her temple and his voice in her ear. She should be elated, but anger tainted her joy. She was angry at herself for being too drugged to notice and at him, and she was angry at him for letting it get that far. “There were other times. Why didn't you tell me before I thought I was losing my mind, before I was told I was a widow?"

"I wanted to, more than anything I wanted to, but there wasn't enough time. If I hadn't done what I had, I would have been brought back to that cell, and we'd still be apart. There was a limited window for us to have a better life."

A better life. Sigyn looked around at her lavish surroundings, and she felt uneasy. If Loki was impersonating the All-Father, that only left a handful of options, all of which were dangerous, all of which required a degree of believability on their part. Loki needed to stay dead, and a grief stricken widow would guarantee that. "And what did you do, Loki?"

"Later, I promise I'll tell you everything." His fingers brushed through her hair, and as much as she wanted to lean into his touch, her lingering anger kept her from doing so. "You're still angry."

"Of course I am! You let me think I was a widow so you could acquire...this?" She gestured around to the room, at his newfound position. “I thought you dead! Again!" She yelled, her voice breaking in a sob. "And the whole time, while I was grieving, while I couldn’t tell if my ‘dreams’ were real or not, while I was chased from one realm and dragged out of another, you were here playing All-Father!"

"Would you rather have me back in that cell? To be separated for another couple centuries, waiting for another opportunity to present itself? It may not have been ideal, but you have to admit it’s better than the alternatives."

“Not ideal? Is that what you call letting me mourn you for a second time?” She turned her back on him, and walked over to the window. The air was cool against her face and stopped her head from spinning. She was determined to stay angry with him, even if part of her could admit that there was a shred of truth to what he said.

His arms wrapped around her, yet he left her just enough room so as not to make her feel trapped. He rested the side of his head against hers, his lips just close enough to her ear to make her shiver. "Your anger is justified, but my goal was never to hurt you," he whispered. "And when you vanished, I admit I was frightened."

It was a rare thing for a son of Odin to admit when they were frightened. Both were prideful creatures, motivated by either a warrior’s bravado or the illusion of control. It had been ages since Loki last admitted such a thing to her. "Why?" she pushed back. "You had everything you wanted. You had the throne, and thanks to my grieving and sudden departure you not only had extra proof you were dead, but also one less risk to your cover being exposed."

His fingers brushed gently along her palm and fingertips. There were no scars there, but she knew by the movement that he was mapping each cut she had made. "When I couldn't pull you out of that state I realized what I drove you to. Every sob, every scream, was my fault, and I didn't know how to help you. And then you disappeared. One night you were crying and distraught, unable to tell dreams from reality, and the next night you're gone. No note, no warning. I had no idea what state you were in when you left, what had happened to you, where you were, and every attempt I made to reach you was blocked by one of your cloaking spells."  He pressed a kiss to her temple. "For all I knew, you could’ve been dead."

“Terrible feeling, isn’t it?” Rubbing salt into that wound didn’t make her feel better for long, in fact moments after it left her lips there was a slighter bitter taste on her tongue, but it needed to be said.

She expected him to twist her words and make it about him, about his concern for her safety and completely ignoring the part about him letting her think he was dead. What she got instead was a silence that stretched on for what felt like hours as she watched the sun dip below the horizon, before he whispered "I'm sorry, Sigyn, for everything I've put you through for the past few years."

"No you're not," she sighed and turned in his arms. "You're not sorry you attacked New York, and you're not sorry about this.”

"No, not about what I did. I just regret thinking I didn't have enough time to tell you the truth and spare you any unnecessary suffering."

More tears streamed down her cheek, and Loki brushed them away. Sigyn wanted to stay angry with him, to hate him for this and what she'd gone through. She’d forgiven him easily after his first death. Falling from the Bifrost hadn’t exactly leave him much of an opportunity to reach out to her, and she’d been so damned happy just to find out he was alive she didn’t care. But this…he’d been right there, in the same realm, the same building as her. "Damn you…" she murmured, resting her forehead against his chest and banging her fist against his shoulder a few times before the tears came. Loki held her to him, gently stroking her hair as she cried into his tunic. “Damn you, damn you, damn you…”

“I didn’t say life with me would be easy.”

_I make no promises that I will be a good husband_. He had warned her, and between the imprisonment and now this he had lived up to that warning. But he was  _alive_. That alone was enough to cool her anger. Only an hour ago, she would have given anything to have him back. She would have made any deal, trekked through any realm, or dragged him out of Hel herself if it would’ve returned him to her. “If I wanted easy I wouldn’t have married you.” He chuckled and she could feel the deep rumble of it in her bones. She curled her fingers tighter into the fabric, as though he would vanish again if she let go. "Our marriage had a rough start, didn't it?"

His fingers combed through her hair, easing all the tension from her body. "It had more than a few bumps. But things will be better."

"Will it?" She asked, looking up at him. "You're the 'All-Father’ now. That’s not exactly reassuring.”

“Sigyn…”

"Seriously, what are we going to do? And how did you manage to even pull this off?"

"The last thing I want to do right now is talk about that." His thumb brushed down her cheek, along her jawline, and stopped just shy of her lips. "I have not seen or held you in nearly a year."

"Loki..." She tried to sound serious, but the feeling of him being this close to her, alive and in her arms, was doing a remarkably good job at pushing aside her concerns about their current situation to the back of her mind for the time being.

"Tomorrow we can discuss everything. But I owe you a great many things, starting with a proper wedding night." Every pent up emotion seemed to burst from her in one instant. She gripped the front of his tunic and crushed his lips to hers. He was _alive_ and _with her_ , and she did not want to let him out of her embrace lest he vanish again. His fingers pressed into her hips, and he held her against him with a fierce possessiveness equal to her own. When she pulled back with a growl in her throat, she dragged his lower lip between her teeth.

"I'm still angry with you," she breathed, grinning. 

"Are you?" He breathed against her neck, and she had to suppress a shiver.

"Like you said, you have a lot to make up for."

He led her back towards the bed. "Then I guess I’ll have to get started..."

 

* * *

 

Loki tucked a strand of Sigyn's hair behind her ear with a feather light touch. She fell asleep an hour ago, and he didn't have the heart to wake her. In the quiet of their chambers, the rhythm of her breathing matched the beating of his heart and he felt more at peace than he had for what felt like ages.

Sometime later, he felt her stir and rolled over to face him. He twined his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him. There was a sleepy smile on her lips and she mumbled, "This is real, right?"

Guilt felt like Thor swinging Mjolnir at his chest. "This is real, Sigyn. I promise." He took her hand and kissed her palm. The glimmer from her bracelet caught his eye. In their haste to reacquaint themselves with each other, it had gone unnoticed, merely a piece of decorative jewelry. Up close, he noticed each little jewel and the intricacies of the knot work. His knowledge of Dwarven knot work was rusty, but he knew to whom the craftsmanship belonged. "Your father made this for you."

"He wanted me to have something that represented us, something worthy of my title as your widow."

"Funny that it took my death to get the old dwarf to like me."

"Oh, I’m sure he would have come around in another couple hundred years.” Her teasing smile faded, and he knew she was remembering the memorial he must have given her. Loki took her hand and interlaced their fingers. "You will not do this to me again."

"I can't promise anything."

"I'm not asking to you promise me anything, Loki. I can play the widow, but I will not be made to believe I am one for a third time."

“Then you won’t have to. Despite my reputation, I don’t particularly enjoy lying to you.”

She nudged him onto his back and leaned over him, her hair tumbling over one shoulder. “I’m going to hold you to that, husband.”

He cradled the back of her head and drew her closer. “I don’t doubt it,” he whispered before kissing her again.  No matter what their future held, he had her back and that was all that mattered.


End file.
